miracle (miracle) wrote in luke_noah, @ 2008-11-19 06:32:00 |
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Original poster: indigo_5
Title: The Whole Wide World
Author: indigo_5
Chapter: 3
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: I own neither Luke, Noah, nor anything else related to ATWT. The show would look a lot different if I did.
Spoilers: None.
To review: This is Chapter 3 of a sequel to A New York Love Story, the fic I did a while back based on the Valentine’s Day AU in New York. Previous chapters can be found here: Chapter 1; Chapter 2.
The original story can be found here: Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5.
Summary: Noah's time in the Navy draws to a close.
Notes: You know what I love? Feedback.
Dear Noah,
We just got off the phone, and I can’t stop grinning. That call was the best surprise I’ve ever gotten in my life. I just wish it could have lasted longer, and we could have said… well, lots of things that I can’t say in this letter either. But I’m thinking them all the time, and I hope you are too. I really miss you.
I know you said you may not be able to get mail for a while, but I had to send you this anyway. Please know that I’m thinking about you constantly and counting down the days until June 13 – that’s still your release date, right?
120 days. And counting. I can’t wait to see you. Until then, take care of yourself, please, for me.
Luke
****
Dear Noah,
I’m not too surprised that I haven’t gotten a letter back from you, since I know you’re not on your ship and whatever it is you’re doing, I’m sure your day doesn’t exactly take you by the post office twice a day. But I can’t wait any longer, so I’m just going to keep writing you and hope you’re getting these.
I got some really good news today: I got a summer internship in the writing department of a TV show that shoots in Manhattan. It’s just a stupid a.m. talk show, and the job pays next to nothing, and I’ll probably be spending more time doing coffee runs than anything else. But still, it means someone is actually going to be paying me to write, which is really pretty cool. It probably sounds ridiculous to you right now, given the stuff you’re going through on a daily basis, but you asked me to keep telling you what’s going on in my life, so I am. You should have heard my parents when I told them on the phone – I think my mom may have busted out my eardrum. Oh well.
I miss you, as you know. 87 days.
Luke
****
Dear Noah,
The weirdest thing happened to me today. I was getting off the subway near Times Square, and I saw a guy in a sailor uniform, and for a split second I swore it was you. I actually ran over and grabbed his arm, but when he turned around, it was just some stranger. It was actually pretty embarrassing. I guess not talking to you is getting to me. I’m starting to see you everywhere I go.
It’s been raining buckets all day, and I fell asleep in class listening to the sound of the water coming down and dreamed I was on a ship with you. I think it was your ship, but it was just the two of us. And there was no war, and no Navy, and nothing to scare us. Nothing between us. There was more, but I can’t share it in this letter. I can’t wait to tell you in person, though.
64 days.
Luke
****
Dear Noah,
Okay, now I am starting to get worried. Are you getting these letters? They’re not being returned, so I suppose they’re going somewhere, but maybe they haven’t made it all the way to you yet. I really wish I knew what you were doing, or where you were. But I know I can’t. I’m really glad President Obama has started the troop withdrawals, because it should mean you won’t be stop-lossed. At least, that’s what the papers seem to think. Which means I really will see you in 43 days. I’m marking off days on my calendar now. Actually, I have been for a while.
Please write when you can.
Luke
****
Dear Noah,
39 days. You’d tell me if that wasn’t true, right? If I wasn’t really going to see you that soon?
There’s some sort of festival happening outside my window right now. I think it’s a Mexican holiday. There’s loud music and a lot of shouting and some really good-smelling food. Wish I could share it with you.
Please be safe. I’m thinking about you. Always.
Luke
****
Luke was pacing. Back and forth behind the sofa. From the window, to the kitchen table, to the window, to the apartment door, to the window again. He knew he was going to drive himself crazy this way. But sitting around pretending to be calm wasn’t cutting it, and trying to go to bed was laughable. He went back into the kitchen and stared at the calendar, pulling it off the wall to flip through the pages. A sloppy X marked every date between February 14 and June 12, and now here it was, June 13, the date he’d been waiting for, and he was about to burst out of his skin. It was 11 pm, and he hadn’t heard from Noah all day. Or the previous day. Or at all, since that Valentine’s Day phone call. Not one letter. Not one call. Nothing.
He was going out of his mind.
He knew not to expect the letters to continue at the same pace they had for that first year. Noah had told him he wouldn’t be able to write for a while, and Luke had said he understood. He didn’t, really, since he had no idea what Noah was doing now, but he knew it was something dangerous, and he knew it was something that didn’t lend itself to keeping up on one’s correspondence. So he said he understood, and he tried. But he didn’t expect to be cut off completely. He sent letter after letter, even when they seemed to be vanishing into a void, even when he had nothing to say. It was his only way to search for Noah, and he had to keep trying. For the last month, he’d sent a new letter every single day, even though he knew that Noah would be out of the Navy before some of them ever had a chance to reach him. But what else could he do?
Luke absently pinned the calendar back onto the wall, not caring which page was showing, then wandered back to the window again, crossing his arms across his chest, staring at the dark street below him. His thoughts turned dark too, imagining gunfire and explosions and bleeding and death, and he began wondering for the millionth time what exactly the Navy would do if something happened to Noah. Would Luke ever find out? They would contact Noah’s Dad, sure. But who would call Luke? Why would they bother notifying some random guy in New York who had exchanged a few letters with the wounded sailor? And did anyone even know about the letters? Probably not. Noah probably hid them, hiding Luke, because he had to, because he didn’t have a choice. So Noah could be dead right now, and Luke would have no way of knowing. He could be lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, unable to ask for him. Or maybe he was asking, but his father wouldn’t honor his request. Or maybe he was just fine, and he just wanted nothing to do with Luke anymore.
Luke lowered his head, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as he tried to slow down his breathing. Get a grip. Get a grip. He’s fine. Or he’s not. He found someone else, or he decided coming out just wasn’t worth it and he wanted to leave his experimentation days behind. Or maybe Luke was never anything more than a one-night stand to him, and Luke had been building up this whole romance, this whole star-crossed lovers thing, in his head, pining after some guy who just lost interest in him months ago.
Except that didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit with the letters, and it didn’t fit with that amazing phone call. Noah had sounded so happy to talk to him – tired, stressed out, worn down, but still happy to hear Luke’s voice. They had talked about how much they missed each other. Luke had been so close to telling Noah he loved him, but then Noah said he had to go, and Luke knew he couldn’t keep him. But he had replayed the conversation a thousand times in his head since then, and he was sure the emotions from Noah were genuine. So where did he go? He breathed deep. Where did you go?
With a sigh, Luke pulled his hands away from his face and stared out the window again. He felt like hell, and he knew he looked like it too. He hadn’t slept through the night in months, and lately he was lucky to get three or four hours at a stretch. He had only been at the job at the station for a few weeks, and he was already screwing it up, showing up late and guzzling coffee just to stay awake through morning meetings, an effort that was not always entirely successful. He had managed to complete his assignments, but his boss had rejected several of his attempts as being too gloomy for a morning talk show. He tried to do better, but he was having trouble finding the perk his boss was looking for. If it kept up like this, he was sure he’d be fired. But he couldn’t even seem to muster up the energy to care.
The bright tones of his cell phone ringing pulled Luke out of his reverie, and he grabbed it out of his pocket, flipping it open and slamming it to his ear without bothering to check who was calling. “Hello?” he said, eagerly. Too eagerly. The word sounded garbled even to him. He took a breath. “Hello,” he said again, slower. “Noah?”
“What? Luke, it’s just me,” said a familiar female voice, and Luke’s heart sank instantly.
“Oh, hi, Jade,” he said, the air leaving his chest like a deflating balloon.
“Well, don’t sound so happy to hear from me,” his cousin replied, a little annoyance in her voice.
“Jade, I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
“But I –” Her voice was cut off as Luke snapped the phone shut, shoving it back into his pocket as he gazed out the window once more. “Where are you?” he whispered, leaning forward, touching his forehead to the glass.
****
Noah shifted his duffel to his other shoulder, balancing the weight of 3 years’ worth of possessions on his back the best he could. The night was dark, but he knew he wouldn’t get lost. He knew this street too well. He had visited it so often in his mind in the 16 months since he’d last been here. He didn’t bother checking the numbers on the buildings, knowing Luke’s by sight the minute he got to it. But when he stood in front of the buzzer, arm raised, he found that he couldn’t seem to ring Luke’s bell. What was he going to say? What could he say? How could he explain what he’d gone through in these last four months? What if Luke had given up on him? He lowered his arm, slowly. He probably has, he thought. Who wouldn’t? Who would bother waiting around for all this time for a guy he’d spent 24 hours with, a lifetime ago?
But he had to find out. He had to. He raised his arm. And before he could push the button, suddenly the door was open, and there was Luke, frozen in the doorway, mouth open, staring. His hair was disheveled, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked thinner than the last time Noah saw him. And he was the most beautiful thing Noah had ever seen.
Noah cleared his throat, turning towards him. “I was just about to –” he began. But there were no more words, because strong arms were wrapped around him, that beautiful head was buried against him, and Luke was whispering something unintelligible into his chest. Noah hugged him back, closing his eyes, clutching him tight, never wanting to let him go. Eventually, he made out the words Luke was saying.
“You came back,” Luke whispered. “You came back. You came back. You came back.”
Chapter 4