Disclaimer – If you recognize it, then I don't own it.
*Notes – None, really, except don't kill Noah? And enjoy! :)
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Luke knocked on the wooden door frame before opening the door and stepping through, glancing back and shrugging at Noah when he realized the room was empty. "He's not here." Luke said, shutting the door and stepping back out into the hallway.
"Oh." Noah replied softly, his mind obviously a million miles away.
"That's okay though, I can talk to Eric about how he wants the foundation to handle Sarah's expenses later." Luke murmured, stepping closer to Noah. "By the way, Noah, I'm in love with Casey and I have a fetish for cross dressing."
"Mmm," was Noah's only answer, and Luke could practically hear his boyfriend's mind working a thousand miles away.
"Noah?" Luke asked softly, nudging the brunette's shoulder, "are you even listening to me?" Noah finally seemed to clue in that Luke was talking, and he shook his head slightly, his eyes refocusing.
"Of course I am!" Noah defended weakly. "I heard everything."
"What was I saying then?" Luke asked innocently, barely able to keep the smirk off of his face.
"Well, you were, umm… I'm busted, aren't I?" Noah admitted, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.
"Pretty much." Luke teased back, before sobering and asking, "What's on your mind?"
Like a candle being doused in a breeze, Noah's smile vanished. "It's nothing." He said shortly, unconvincingly. At Luke's disbelieving gaze, Noah corrected himself. "It's nothing important, anyway."
"Noah." Somehow, the one syllable carried more in it than an entire speech could've. Luke's chocolate brown eyes were wide, searching Noah's face for any hint of what was bothering him. Well, besides the obvious.
"It's just…" Noah began, fidgeting his hands until Luke placed one of his own on top of Noah's, stilling him, "this doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't make sense?" Luke asked gently, his thumb unconsciously stroking the back of Noah's hand. "Come on, talk to me."
"This thing with, with my dad," Noah kept his gaze on his shoes, avoiding Luke's gaze, "it's just… none of this is like him."
"Like him, how?" Luke said, confusion creeping in his words. "Noah… we know that he's doing this. You heard him, and Eric admitted it, too."
"I know that!" Noah yelled, very uncharacteristically. "I just don't understand any of it. Why is he blackmailing Eric? How did he get the money to pay for Sarah's medical treatment? This isn't like him… all of this manipulating." Noah's voice sounded small and sad as he whispered, "I just don't understand."
Luke repressed the urge to pull Noah into his arms, knowing that words would be more effective than hugs, at this point anyways. "Noah," he said, not sure how to breach what he wanted to say, "you haven't seen your dad in years. He's changed, and he's probably getting the money from some army connection he has. He used to train Special Ops, right?"
"Yeah," Noah replied, looking utterly lost, "but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Maybe he saved someone's life, and they paid him back or something." Luke knew he was grasping at straws, but he had to give Noah something tangible to believe. "But the 'how' doesn't matter; what matters is making sure the police find him before he hurts someone else."
"You're right." Noah muttered, but there was something in his tone that sounded off to Luke. He didn't push it, though; not this time.
"Do you want to head home?" Luke asked, moving his hand from Noah's grasp so that their fingers were entwined. "We should let grandmother know what's going on."
"Sure." Noah replied, back to monosyllables. "But… can we not go through the front door? I don't want to deal with people right now."
"Umm, okay," Luke began, "but how are we going to get out?"
Noah tugged Luke's hand as an answer, pulling him down the hallway before answering. "There's a door here – remember? Eric let us leave through it the first time we came to the station."
"Oh, right." Luke replied. His memories of that meeting were still fuzzy, pain and despair wafting over them until it was all a blurry haze. He did, however, remember leaving through a side door at the end of the hallway, away from the prying eyes that had filled the station at the time.
"And it's… right here." Noah exclaimed, rounding a corner and seeing the door. "It's raining pretty badly out there." He remarked, glancing out the door's window before looking over at Luke. "It's going to be one hell of a storm." A rumble of thunder, followed shortly by a flash of lightening, accompanied Noah's words, and Luke realized that Noah was trying to lighten the mood, change the topic to something normal. For now, Luke decided not to fight him on it.
"Well, we better make a run for the car, then!" Luke's teasing tone fell a bit flat, but both men pretended not to notice. Pushing past Noah, Luke leaned over and pushed on the door, only to be met with resistance. "Weird." Luke commented, looking over his shoulder at Noah. "I think the door's locked."
"I think you're just too weak to open it up." Noah smiled, and the amusement in his voice didn't seem so forced. Memories of their post-kidnapping by Zac and Zoe stay in the hospital suddenly sprung to Luke's mind. This is how he copes,, Luke realized, cracking jokes and trying to repress it.
"Fine, tough guy. You try." Luke said, stepping aside and nudging Noah forwards. "Let's see you try."
Noah pushed on the door, his eyebrows furrowing when the door didn't move. "I think it's jammed, or something…" he mumbled before pushing against it again. "Not budging." He finally proclaimed, minutes later, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. "Something's wedged in front of this door. I guess we should go through the front door."
"Or," Luke said, "we could try opening the other door." He tilted his head at the second door in the set, a light flush spreading on his face as he realized how stupid they had been. We've got a lot on our minds.
"Or, we could do that." Noah sighed, obviously feeling as incompetent as Luke was. Noah pushed against the door, and it opened a crack. Shouldering it, he pushed hard and the door swung open, causing Noah to nearly fall out.
The sight of Noah falling through a doorframe had Luke giggling, and he stuck his head out into the cold, wet storm and asked, "Noah, you okay?" He was greeted with silence.
"Noah?" He said, jumping out of the building, only to feel something soft beneath his feet. "What the hell?" Looking down, he saw a thigh encased in denim. Working his gaze up the leg, he saw a chest, neck, and a ghostly white face with lips parted and eyes closed. "Oh my god, is that Eric?" Luke whispered, shock holding him still.
"Yeah, he's been shot." The words floated from below him, and Luke realized that Noah was kneeling by Eric's chest – and oh god, there was blood, blood everywhere. "Go get help, Luke!" Noah cried, the rain plastering his hair to his head. "Now!"
Luke tried to move, but he couldn't. It was as if shock had turned his muscles into lead, paralyzing him. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god…" He chanted, eyes fixed on Noah, who was tearing off his jacket and using it to press down on the bullet wound – probably to staunch the blood flow.
"Now, Luke!" Noah yelled over a crack of thunder. "Please, baby. Go get help." Maybe it was the pet name that cued Luke, but before Noah could blink Luke was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
Refocusing his attention in Eric, Noah bundled his jacket up and pressed it against the bullet hole in Eric's lower stomach. "Come on come on come on," he whispered, ignoring the stinging as rain pounded on him, turning his skin into ice, "you'll be fine, you're gonna be okay, come on come on come on."
Feeling helpless, Noah let his gaze travel up Eric's body, looking for anything that would help him. A small, square piece of white something caught his eye, and Noah grabbed it off of Eric's chest. Using one hand to keep his makeshift compress on Eric, he blinked rapidly and tried to see exactly what he was holding.
One glance revealed to him that it was a DVD case, with block letter printing on the front. Using his forearm to push his dripping hair back, Noah rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and focused on the letters. When he read 'Noah Mayer', he nearly dropped the case. Instead, he set it in between his knees and directed his attention on keeping Eric's wound from gushing blood, pushing the DVD to the back of his mind.
The door behind Noah opened, but the brunette didn't notice until there were hands on top of his, pressing on the compress, and a reassuring voice whispering in his ear, "It's okay, son; you've done your job, now let us do ours." Numbly, Noah let go, stood up and stepped back into the pouring rain, allowing the medical team to swarm Eric.
There was a frenzy of people surrounding Eric, and Noah could make out the occasional phrase as it was yelled over the storm. Within minutes, the paramedics had Eric strapped to a stretcher, and were loading him into an ambulance that had driven up by the door; funny, Noah hadn't noticed when it arrived.
The back doors to the ambulance were shut, and then it was off, sirens blaring. Noah turned to walk inside when he saw that white DVD case lying on the ground – he'd forgotten about it. Grabbing it, he tucked it halfway into his jeans, pulling his shirt overtop of what poked out Dimly, he realized that with his shirt being wet, the square shape might stand out, but he was too numb to care.
He didn't know how long he stood in the pouring rain, staring at the bloodstains on the pavement. After a long while, he felt warm arms wrap around him, and a low, soothing voice whispering in his ear. Leaning into the warmth that was wrapping around him, Noah allowed himself to be guided back into the station.
"Noah? Noah, are you okay? God, baby, you're like an icicle." That soothing voice murmured, before asking, "Can I get some blankets over here!" Within minutes, Noah felt a heavy blanket being wrapped around him, and absently noticed that he was freezing, his teeth chattering.
His hands came up to hold the blanket tighter to him, but he stopped when he saw dark red stains on his hands. Blood… Eric's blood. He stared at the crimson on his hands until the need to wash it off became unbearable. "Bathroom." He croaked out between chattering teeth, not sure if Luke – and it had to be Luke, because who else would care for him like this? – would be able to understand him.
"Okay baby, let's just take you home first." Luke crooned in Noah's ear, tightening his grip around Noah. Noah shook his head, wanting to say that there was blood, there was blood everywhere and he needed to get it off, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate.
Clipped phrases stood out against the blurred mumble of the station; Noah heard an officer say something about needing a statement, and Luke's reply was something he would never say in front of Emma – the thought almost made him smile. Almost.
Before he knew what was happening, he was being led out of the station, back into the raging storm. Part of him wanted to protest, to stay where it was warm and dry and safe, but the larger part of him trusted Luke, and knew that his boyfriend would do whatever was best for him. No rain touched him – an umbrella made sure of that, although a strong wind blew his wet hair off of his face, causing him to shiver.
The car ride home seemed to take absolutely no time while being the longest thing in the world. The car was steaming, as Luke had turned the seat heaters on as well as cranking the heat blown around the car, but Noah still found himself shivering; he wasn't sure if it was just because of the cold anymore. At one point, he tried to say something, but one look into Luke's brown eyes told him that nothing needed to be spoken.
Another blink, and he was in their apartment, being led to the bedroom, their bedroom. Luke let go of him, and Noah found himself instantly missing his warmth, his smell, his touch. Pulling the blanket tightly around him in a weak compensation, Noah immediately headed to the adjoining bathroom, needing to scrub the blood off of his hands – now.
"Noah?" Luke asked, his voice radiating concern.
"Shower." Noah mumbled over his shoulder, resting one hand on the doorknob as he waited for Luke's answer.
"Oh, okay," Luke replied, "do you want me to come with you?"
"I'm fine." Noah said shortly, summoning up the ghost of a smile while Luke looked on, concerned. "Seriously, it's okay. I just… I need to get this off of me, okay?" Noah hoped Luke understood, because he didn't wait for a response; he shut the bathroom door, numbly stripped his clothes, turned the water dial up until it was scalding hot, and scrubbed at his skin until every hint of blood was gone.
Twenty minutes later, Noah stepped out of the shower and found a white, fluffy towel along with a spare set of clothes lying on the counter. Smiling to himself at Luke's thoughtfulness, Noah scrubbed his hair before getting changed, feeling a lot more calmer than he had been. He reluctantly bent down to pick up his blood soaked clothes, nearly dropping them as he noticed the DVD case. I'd forgotten about that.
He set it on the counter while he haphazardly pulled on the sweatpants, large t-shirt and even larger hoodie Luke had brought him. He stuffed the DVD into the hoodie's oversized pockets, hoping that Luke wouldn't notice. He knew that he shouldn't be keeping secrets from Luke again, but he had to. Noah knew that whatever was on the DVD couldn't be good, and he refused to put Luke through anymore hurt.
Speaking of Luke… Noah cracked the bathroom door opening and peeked through it, looking for the blonde. He was surprised that Luke hadn't come rushing into the bathroom already. "Luke?" He called out, stepping into the bedroom. "Luke? You there… oh." The room was empty, but there was a piece of paper attached to the bedroom door, almost directly across from where Noah was standing.
Walking across the room, Noah picked up the paper and realized it was a note, from Luke. Sitting down on the bed, he read:
Noah,
Faith called from the farm; she's really upset, and I don't know what's going on. I'll be back as soon as I can, but this might take a while. I haven't heard Faith like this in a long time, and I need to go check up on her. I hate leaving you baby, but I had to. I'm so, so sorry. Call me as soon as you read this, please!
I LOVE YOU!
- Luke
Noah smiled to himself before walking over to his socks drawer and pulling out a small, chestnut box. Pausing briefly to admire the richness of the wood, the intricate designs inlaid on it, Noah opened the lid and slid the note inside, allowing it to join other notes and trinkets Luke had given him in their time together. Every single one was precious, and although Luke teased him about his 'collection', Noah knew his boyfriend was secretly thrilled by it.
Tucking the box back in the drawer, Noah pulled the DVD out of his sweatshirt's pocket and slowly opened the case. The DVD itself was white and without a word printed on it. Starting up the TV that was in the bedroom, Noah popped the DVD into the DVD player and sat back on the bed, unconsciously grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight to his chest.
The TV screen flickered before turning on, and the face Noah wanted to see least in the world was suddenly only feet from him. He recoiled on instinct, silently backing up until his back was flush against the headboard, terrified about what he was about to hear, yet not making a sound in case he missed a word.
Ten minutes later, Noah wordlessly hit paused on the remote, freezing the screen. His mind was numb, his fingers shaking as he turned the TV off and scrawled out a hasty note to Luke, telling him that something came up at Java and he wouldn't be back for a bit. He set the note carefully on the bed before changing into jeans and a t-shirt; he didn't want to deal with what he knew was coming in sweatpants. You're stalling, he thought to himself as he meticulously folded the clothes he'd been wearing.
Taking a slow and deep breath, Noah grabbed Luke's pillow and inhaled deeply, trying to capture the unique smell of his lover. A single tear dropped onto the pillow, but he scrubbed at his eyes furiously. I don't have time to be weak – I can't be. Oh god…
Noah wrenched open the door, almost screaming when he realized that someone was already there. "Damian?" He asked, wondering what the hell the other man was doing at his apartment. "Luke's not here."
"Oh," Damian said simply, scrutinizing Noah, who flinched under his gaze, "how are you, son?"
"Don't call me that." Noah snapped, the words too reminiscent of his father's brutal greetings. "Wait, how did you get here, in my home? Wait, I don't have time for this. Get out, now. I've got to go."
"What's the rush, Noah?" Damian asked, eyeing Noah again. "Can't you talk to me for a few minutes?"
"No, I can't!" Noah yelled, edging past Damian and slamming the door to the bedroom shut. "Get the hell out before I make you!" Something in Noah's tone must have warned Damian, because he silently followed the brunette out of the apartment.
"What's going on, Noah?" Damian asked again, infuriating Noah. "Talk to me."
"I can't!" Noah screamed, well aware that he was loosing it but helpless to stop himself. "I've got to go, now, or else… or else…" He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.
A sudden clarity entered Damian's eyes, and he took the smallest of steps towards Noah. "You're going to meet him." As if someone had stuck Noah's finger in an electrical socket, Noah's entire body jerked, his gaze flying to meet Damian's.
"Meet… you know?" He whispered, eyes darting everywhere from Damian's hair to his shoes. "How… how do you know?"
"That doesn't matter," Damian said quickly, his accent growing thicker, "what does matter is that you don't do this, Noah. Please, don't."
"I have to." Noah replied grimly, staring into those blue eyes. "I can't let someone else be hurt because of me. Not again."
Damian looked as if he was about to argue, but instead he swallowed heavily before saying, "I can take you to him." The words hung in the air, potent yet dangerous, a double edged sword. Noah wish he could've been shocked, but the truth had been there from the moment he saw Damian. The manipulating, the money... it all madesense.
"Why should I trust you?" Noah asked, warily looking at Damian. "How do I know that this isn't a trap?"
"Because, I would never hurt Luciano, and hurting you would, by default, hurt him." Damian said simply, his voice showing nothing but truth. "And I can protect you."
Noah thought back to the million horror movies he'd seen, when the victim trusts the killer. He knew it was wrong, but that sheer desperation to make this right was all he could focus on, and he knew that his own health came at a second. Besides, he knew that Damian wouldn't kill him; no, the Colonel most definitely wanted him alive.
"Fine," Noah said, trying to push back the blinding panic consuming his body, "let's go."
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