miracle (miracle) wrote in luke_noah, @ 2009-01-14 14:33:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | -[luke/noah]-, fanfic, fanfic: [atwt], fanfic: rating: teen&under, ยป by: forbiddenromanc |
FIC: Make You Believe, Make You Forget
Original poster: forbiddenromanc
Rating: G/PG
Warnings/Spoliers: None
Written for Yuletide, set during the paralysis storyline
Luke swung his legs over the side of his bed, carefully avoiding scattering the shoes and . . . sleeves of baseball cards. He thought he’d moved those to the down stairs bedroom years ago. Shrugging off the thought, he stood up, his legs wobbling unpleasantly.
He shook them, trying to get the sensation in his legs back. He got worried when, after a few minutes, the pins and needles faded into literally nothing and his legs felt like dead weight. ‘Why can’t I feel my legs?’ Déjà vu.
The door swung open, revealing Holden with chocolate milk splattered Ethan wiggling in his arms. “Oh, you’re up,” he said with unmasked surprised. “ I thought Noah, Ethan and I would have to eat all the food.”
“Noah’s here?” Luke asked with a wide grin, walking to his dresser and pulling on a sweatshirt. His legs seemed fine now.
Holden looked confused, as he struggled to keep Ethan squirming out of his grasp. “Are you feeling alright? Oh course, Noah is here, just like every morning. He’s helping with your recovery.” He smiled too brightly and left.
“Recovery?” he said aloud. He lifted his shirt prodding around for a fresh scar, his search coming up empty.
Sound rushed at him, like someone un-muted the rest of the house. Noah’s sweet laugh filtered into his room mixed with Holden’s plate scraping and Emma’s shuffling footsteps around the kitchen. He tried to take a step towards the sounds, but his legs felt like they were cemented to the floor.
He wanted to scream in frustration, not understanding why his body was working against him. He tried to move his legs again, managing only to fall into . . . a wheelchair. Memories rushed at him and he remembered it all. He was paralyzed . . .
Gasping for breath, he pulled himself into a sitting position, the sweat soaked sheets trying to follow his path. The muscles in his upper arms throbbed in protest from necessary over-used.
He looked around the room, spotting the shoes and stacked sheets of cards on his desk in a far corner. He stretched across the bed, flipping on a small table lamp.
Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes against his will – another way his body was betraying him – ripping at his need for control.
A loud clanking noise came from what Luke guessed was the kitchen and for the first time since waking he looked at the clock, surprised to see it was almost 8:30. Emma must be cleaning up after the breakfast rush.
Luke swiped angrily at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, wiping away the evidence his traitor body left behind to remind him of his dream. His wheelchair sat on the other side of dress, too far for him to reach safely.
He sighed; he’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to call anyone for help. “Dad?”
Silence.
“Dad?” he tried again. He heard the low shuffle of footsteps and the door creaked open a few seconds later. He squinted against the bright lights backlighting the tall form. “Noah?”
The dark haired boy in his doorway grinned, “Who else?”
Luke smiled in spite of himself. “Oh, I don’t know. My dad? Jack, Brad, Parker — in the right lighting.”
“As if Parker would drag himself, or let himself be dragged for that matter, out here. Plus, it’s a school day; he’s probably in homeroom. And honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Parker smile. ”
“Not the point. What are you doing here anyway?”
The corner of Noah’s mouth twitched, resisting spreading into a larger smile. “It’s very nice to see you, too, Luke.”
Luke rolled his eyes dramatically. “That’s not how I meant it and you know it, smartass.”
“Smartass? I’m flattered. I thought you saved your witty comebacks for the likes of the Pope or a highly respected professor.”
“You’re a riot this morning. Did someone slip something into your coffee?”
Noah’s amused grin melted into a soft adoring look. “I’m just happy to see you.”
The little lingering irritation Luke had at himself slid away as he basked in Noah’s silent love. “Me too.”
“Hey Noah. When did you get here?” Holden asked, appearing behind him, drying his hands on a ratty dishtowel.
Noah turned away to shake Holden’s hand. Luke noticed Noah ducked his head to avoid eye contact with his father. “Just a few minutes ago, Mr. Snyder.”
“Well, you’re always welcome here, you know that,” Holden flashed him a small smile.
Noah smiled, clearly happy to be accepted at the farm. “Thank you, Mr. Snyder.”
Holden nodded at him, before turning his attention to Luke. “Sorry, I was putting Ethan down for a nap. I think he’s coming down with a cold. Did you call me, Luke?”
“Yeah, I needed help getting into the wheelchair.”
“Alright.” Holden stepped around Noah to get into the room. “Noah, if you’re hungry, there should still be some eggs and bacon – maybe even biscuits—on the counter.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Luke chimed in. “Save me some bacon.”
Noah laughed as he walked towards the kitchen, muttering something that vaguely sounded like he’d better hurry, if he wanted bacon.
Holden helped him into his wheelchair without problem for which Luke was very thankful. “Thank you, Dad,” he muttered.
He ruffled Luke’s hair, a habit that had stuck since childhood, in response. Luke was also thankful he didn’t do it when company was present.
---
Noah was munching happily on what looked like a bacon and egg sandwich when he wheeled himself into the kitchen and over to the counter.
Luke grabbed a plate of food – Noah had saved him some bacon, for which he was grateful— and rolled over to Noah’s chair for a proper hello.
The brush of Noah’s lips against his made butterflies flutter away in his stomach. Luke was sure the fluttering was so intense that Noah must somehow feel it. “Hello.”
Noah had just taken a bite, but he smiled with his eyes. “Hi.”
Luke enjoyed the comfortable silence as they ate, feeling almost normal again.
“You’re in a very good mood today,” Noah observed.
Luke reached across the table to grab Noah’s free hand, rubbing his thumb along his knuckles. “You’re here.”