NaNo Fic: What Is Undone (ATWT, Luke/Noah, AU) - Part Two

[freakykat]

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Title: What Is Undone
Rating: R
Chapter: Part Two
Pairing: Luke/Noah
Summary: Sometimes love is your only chance.
Disclaimer: Sadly I don’t own any of the boys I like to play with. All rights for the characters go to P&G, ATWT, JP, CG, etc.
Beta: The phenomenal and wonderful mactwck who took this monster on! I love you and thank you so much my dearest.
W/C: 8575
Warnings: Attitudes that will piss you off, some violence, definite cursing...a little cracky which begins here.
Author’s Note: Um...so yeah. I wrote this. For NaNo. It’s EPIC. Like 64,000 words of EPIC. I’ve divided it into parts cause you know...EPIC. My eternal gratitude to wouldbedorothy and reilael for listening. And to frances_veritas for the encouragement. I’ll be posting it every Friday and Wednesday. Enjoy! And feedback is yearned, loved and appreciated.

Story Note: What If? AU. What if when Lily fell down the stairs Luke did leave with Damien? And what if Damien sent Luke away to be “fixed”? Written for National Novel Writing Month and just recently finished. Final word count: 64,000 (This is my EPIC you guys!) It definitely veered a lot more toward the cracky/soapy than I had originally intended but well, it’s where it went. Shoddily researched but researched!


Part One




What Is Undone


Part Two


Noah didn’t pause when he left Luke’s room. He was certain the staff was monitoring him and Noah couldn’t afford to bring any suspicions down on himself, or Luke. His fingers trembled a little, legs just unsteady, but he forced them to move with no hesitation. Walking down the long corridor that opened into the main hall, he made one foot follow the other, told himself he just needed to get to his room.

He waved when someone greeted him, tried to smile if he was smiled at, nodded when he saw any staff or seniors looking at him. Noah knew what they were thinking. They were watching, gauging his reaction to seeing Luke. His feet climbed the steps that led up to his room. He wanted to shut the door, lock himself in, and curl up on his bed. That was not possible.

Rules prohibited any closed room doors at any point in time. He left it ajar, stepping behind it and letting his head fall, with a thud, against the wall. He breathed in deep, forcing the knot in his stomach to unfurl, consciously making his hands unclench. He closed his eyes, flashing to the look on Luke’s face when he had greeted Noah.

His breath hitched and his eyes flew open.

This was not good.

No. No. No. No.

It was as if his heart had tripped over itself when Luke had glanced his way, smiled, and said hello. Everything inside Noah had stopped for just that one second and he was aware of the air around him as if he had been made of electric currents. This powerful need to touch had overwhelmed him, and if he hadn’t wanted to keep Luke calm, he would have let a hysterical laugh loose.

He was the universe’s fucking joke. He had always known that.

However, ‘She’ seemed to be having an especially good time with him now.

What were the odds that he would walk into that room and meet someone who made his insides burn? They had to be slim to none. He burned and wanted. Something he had not allowed himself to feel in years. Despite what his father thought, Noah had learned self-restraint long ago.

Rarely, if ever, did his emotions run his life.

Except for David…

He pushed that thought away, shaking just slightly as he slid down the wall to the floor, his head resting on his bent knees. He had wanted to laugh. His chest rattling with it and he had had to suppress it so much that it hurt.

He had met Luke for one minute and he had wanted to laugh. It made him realize how much he missed it.

Laughing was not allowed.

Noah inhaled deeply, shaking his head, and shoving down all those needs and wants he kept locked, hidden, where no one could find them.

He could do this. He had to do this.

It was his chance to make up for everything.

It was the reason he was here.

“Noah.”

He heard Marc’s voice call out softly, from the doorway. They were not allowed in each other’s rooms.

“What’s going on, Marc?” He hoped his voice sounded normal, not thick, and full of things he couldn’t say. Marc’s long pause told him otherwise but he waited for his friend to say something.

It did not take long. It was not good.

“Kreeger wants to see you. Now.”

Noah snorted, unable to help himself.

“Of course, he does.”

Taking a long moment, he rose to his feet and came around the corner, meeting Marc’s wide eyes. “Come on. You need to be in group.”

Marc nodded and Noah almost touched his shoulder, pulling back at the last second.

No touching, Mayer.

He walked Marc to group, nodded at Marcie, and then turned to continue up the hallway to the giant wooden door at the end. He took a deep breath, knocked, and waited until he was told to enter. When he did, he made sure his eyes fell to the floor. It was never a good idea for Noah to look straight at Kreeger.

Self-preservation for both of them.

“Did you need to see me?”

Kreeger stayed silent until Noah was forced to look up. He stared at a point above Kreeger’s head. It looked like he was looking straight at him, he knew that. He had learned that trick from being with The Colonel, when he had still been a kid.

“I wanted to know how things went.”

“He received his books, bag, and papers, sir.”

“I’m aware of that. Did he try to talk to you?”

Noah hesitated. He didn’t know how much they knew. The room was probably not bugged. They would have seen them, though.

“He understands the rules, sir.”

That was good, not a complete lie. He was sure Luke understood them. Whether he was willing to follow them was another issue all together.

“Good to know.” Kreeger kept his eyes on Noah and not for the first time Noah felt all the hate coming off him in waves. Kreeger hated them. It was shocking and reassuring at the same time.

He was relieved that someone like Ross Kreeger hated him.

It made him think he was doing something right.

“You are going to guide this one, Noah. Make sure he makes the program.” Kreeger folded his hands under his chin. “This is your chance to prove to us that leaving you in here was the right decision.”

Noah tensed, fighting back words, screams, and howls.

It had not been their decision.

He bit it all back. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, I think they are waiting for you at group.”

Noah nodded, gripping the door handle hard and restraining the need to close it with a slam behind him. He closed it softly instead, nodding to Mrs. Hensley at the desk. Moving with a steadiness that he was not aware he was capable of, he returned to group.

When Marc and Evie threw him glances, he kept his eyes away.

He couldn’t handle the questions he would see there.

He wouldn’t have any answers for them.

*

It was as if Luke had disappeared off the face of, not just the planet, but also the entire universe. Jack Snyder ran a hand through his already mussed hair, taking another sip of lukewarm coffee, refraining from letting out a frustrated growl. It was impossible for Luke to be gone without a trace. He just had to keep looking.

He would find him.

Hopefully, before any permanent damage had been done.

The lead Jack had from Holden, Echo Lake, was a dead end. They had swarmed the camp with cars, police trucks, and men in search of Luke. The search had ended with an angry coalition of religious leaders, who were going to make them pay in the coming year.

Something had been fishy at that place.

Laws and rules that didn’t allow Jack access protected them. Not without proof of his suspicions, but that wasn’t stopping him.

Echo Lake and Luke’s disappearance were connected.

He just needed to figure out how.

The shrill tone of his phone brought Jack back to awareness and he spoke quickly, as he answered. “Nothing yet, Holden.”

The silence was thick and long. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”

Jack sighed into the phone. “Did you find anything in Caspriano?” Holden had traced some movement of Damian’s to the small town outside of Venice. It had been their first solid lead on that end. Things were looking up.

“Not yet. But I’m sure he’s here.” Holden’s voice was steel and Jack almost felt sorry for Damian. “I’ll find him.”

“You’re sure that Luke isn’t -”

“Positive.” Holden’s voice cracked as he finished the sentence. “There’s been no sign of Luke.”

“We’ll find him, Holden.”

“It’s been almost a week, Jack.”

“I know.”

He knew it was not needed. That the father Holden was, the man he admired was and would remain relentless, but he wanted to say it.

“Don’t give up, man.”

He smiled at the immediate response.

“Not for a minute.”

*

Italy, as he had been told many times, was beautiful. Italy was full of life and grace, from its people, to its culture, to its food. It was the place people came to fall in love, or reacquaint themselves with the idea. Young couples strolling hand in hand, glow of a new union surrounding them. Older, settled couples sitting together, under trees or on benches, reading, enjoying that comfortable silence that came with knowing each other.

There was the food, its endless arrays of colors and flavors and smells, always mingling, always different. Markets were full of noise and bustle. People milling through their day, getting home, going to work, or just out for the enjoyment of it. There were shops and art galleries galore.

It was beautiful or so he had been told.

Holden had been there twice in his lifetime. Both times in search of what had been taken from him, his son.

All the beauty people mentioned, he never saw.

He never took notice of them because in those moments, his world was dark and lifeless.

Nothing registered, except for the buildings surrounding him.

Buildings so old and crumpled, they should have never been standing rose in glory over his head. They were steady in their old tales, quiet and sturdy. They stood through wars, hate, and love. They stood, as a testament that some things, no matter how beaten down and tested, could never be broken.

Like a father’s search for a son, like a man’s love for his family.

Leaving the shade of the tree he had rested under, Holden tucked his jacket tighter, flagged down a taxi.

It had been a dead end.

He should have known it would be, but that hope that kept him going had flared up and fooled him again.

There had to be a better way.

Instead of chasing shadows, he was going to shine a light on them from far.

He would lure Damian out. Then, he would find his son.

*

Two more days.

That was all he had left to endure of the silence.

Luke flopped onto the solid surface of the bed, covering his face with hands that trembled slightly. He could do this. It was killing him, being unable to speak up, to say what was on his mind. Especially when Kreeger and Marcie showed up for their visit, to check on his progress, give him tips; try to make him remember the rules and why they were there.

Luke closed his eyes.

Galatians 5:19 - 21: 19 Now the works of the flesh are obvious, which are: adultery, sexual immorality, uncleanness, lustfulness, 20 idolatry, sorcery, hatred, strife, jealousies, outbursts of anger, rivalries, divisions, heresies, 21 envying, murders, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these; of which I forewarn you, even as I also forewarned you, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

1. No smoking, alcohol, drugs, or inappropriate use of over-the-counter medications.

Luke snorted at that. Yeah. He had that one covered, thank you. His hand skimmed over the puckered skin on his flank, tracing the scar there. He had been lucky.

1 Corinthians 6:12-15: 12 “All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are expedient. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be brought under the power of anything. 13 “Foods for the belly, and the belly for foods,” but God will bring to nothing both it and them. But the body is not for sexual immorality, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body. 14 Now God raised up the Lord, and will also raise us up by his power. 15 Don’t you know that your bodies are members of Christ? Will I then take away the members of Christ, and make them members of a prostitute? Certainly not!

2. No sexual/emotional misconduct. Any temptations, fantasies, or dreams are to be presented to one’s staff worker only. Sexual misconduct includes viewing pornography, visiting an adult bookstore, emotional dependency, voyeurism, stalking, masturbation, mutual masturbation, or any form of genital or sexual contact with another person.

He was sure that would not be a problem in this place. It wasn’t as if everyone else wasn’t scared to death, to feel or think anything other than what they were told. In addition, to top it off, the only people he saw were Kreeger, Marcie, and…Noah.

Noah.

Luke opened his eyes when Noah’s face flashed across his mind.

Those times, when smiling eyes greeted him, were his favorite. They had managed to find some way to communicate through hand gestures, the joke there was not lost on Luke, and writing when that was not working. The thought made him glance at the small clock that was perched on his desk, courtesy of Noah. It was almost time for Noah to visit.

Luke smiled, smoothing his hair down with one hand, ignoring that little pick up in his heartbeat. Noah was the closest thing he had to a friend here. He wanted to know if he could trust him, if he was like all the others or, if like Luke sensed, he was different. It was a feeling he got whenever they were in the same room. Nothing that Noah had actually said because…well, Noah didn’t say anything. Ever.

Luke tended to break his silence at least once during the day, as if everything that was bottled inside couldn’t resist and just had to come out or he would explode. It was during those moments that Noah, the Noah that Luke knew was inside the silence, would surface. His reactions, always subtle, were definitely there. His eyebrows would twitch at a funny comment, quirk of the lip when Luke complained, or tension in his shoulders whenever they were too close.

Those things Luke couldn’t miss. Moreover, despite it all, he came back every day.

The door opened and Luke grinned, only to have it fall almost instantly.

Kreeger.

He had been by to see Luke exactly once in the last five days. That had been to check on his progress.

“Well, Luke. We have received nothing but good reports on your progress here. I’m happy to say, we can move you now.”

Luke would have rolled his eyes at the word “progress” except that meant actually taking his eyes off the open door. When Noah appeared there, he sensed the change in Kreeger and he knew it was a test. They were being tested.

He had no idea why.

However, he knew better than to give them anything.

Rising to his feet, he moved quietly to get all his possessions, and turned to look expectantly at the good doctor. Training himself to wait would be the most difficult but he had to do this. He was one-step closer to getting the hell out of there.

Kreeger smiled that creepy, thin one that he seemed to reserve for Luke, and motioned with his hand to the door. “Mr. Mayer will take you to your room.”

Mayer. Noah Mayer.

Good to know.

Luke glanced at Noah, something clutching his insides at the look he saw there.

Noah hated Kreeger.

It was shining out from his eyes, making them darker, deeper and when he glanced at Luke, it disappeared immediately. His lips quirked in what passed for a smile for Noah and he stepped out of the doorway to let Luke through. Noah nodded to the hall and Luke passed by him, closer than they had ever been and he sucked in a breath.

Goosebumps.

Electricity.

Noah stiffened at his side, taking a step sideways and then forward in an attempt to put as much distance between them as he could. They walked in silence with Kreeger behind them the whole way. Luke kept his eyes ahead, staring at the back of Noah’s head.

When they reached the bottom of a flight of stairs, Kreeger pointed to the top. “This is the wing you’ll be in. Your room is right across from Noah’s, of course, since he is your senior. I’m sure you’ve been appraised of the rules but to remind you: at no moment should your door be closed. You are not to enter another room without a staff member present. You receive one 15 minute maximum closed bathroom door time for grooming and such.” Kreeger paused when Luke’s face twisted into what he could only assume was disgust, but he chose to say nothing. “Of course, whenever you have to use the bathroom, the bathroom is to be locked, but in those cases you are expected to be done long before 15 minutes. Remember to let your senior or a staff member know when you’ll be using your 15 minute grooming time.”

Luke reminded himself to breath. This place was going to kill him. He nodded at Kreeger, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would tell him how much of a freak he thought Kreeger was.

Kreeger smiled, nodding to Noah. “I’m sure you’ll be filled in on the rest. And remember, if in doubt, don’t. Ask first.” He patted Luke’s shoulder and moved past him down the hall. Luke watched his form disappear through a door before he brushed the spot where he had touched him. When he turned back, Noah was staring at him with what looked like admiration.

‘He was allowed to talk now, wasn’t he? That was part of the process. Well, only one way to find out.’

“Lead on, McDuff.”

No one rushed out to gag him, so Luke assumed it was fine. He caught the amusement on Noah’s face and smiled automatically. He couldn’t help it. Something about Noah screamed the need to smile, to laugh. Luke was sure that he would never receive a laugh but he could settle for a smile.

His room was almost immediately off the stairs to the left, slightly hidden in the corner. He glanced across the small hallway into Noah’s room. Bed perfectly made, books on the desk, clothes folded on a chair nearby. All very neat and orderly.

All very lifeless and devoid of personality.

All very annoying.

“Did you know that serial killers have a tendency to be anal-retentive with neatness, too?” Luke pointed at Noah’s room, entering his own in the process. It was better than the cell they had him in before but not by much. The bed looked a lot more comfortable. The desk was bigger and there was a small case, that he supposed was for the workbooks and crap, they were given.

He glanced at the schedule on the desk, taking note that he would start group the next day. “Well, that’s just great.” Luke let his head fall forward, sighing deeply, finding inside himself some reserve of patience and strength.

“It gets better from here on.”

He jumped at the sound. Wide-eyed and more than just a little surprised he turned to look at Noah, who was still standing outside the door. “Did you just?”

Noah’s face seemed to flush some as he looked away. His voice was deep with just a bit of tremble in it. “If you follow what they say, you’ll be fine.”

It was the best sound Luke had ever heard. He didn’t even let the words bother him. “It talks! I had no idea.”

There it was again. The quirk of the lips, and an insane need to see it grow bigger. Luke started to invite Noah in before remembering. It was against the rules.

“So, now, do we just like, yell at each other across the hall?”

Noah shook his head, eyes meeting Luke’s “No, this is acceptable. Me, out here, I mean. We can talk like this.” He glanced to his side, his face lighting up more than Luke had ever seen and he motioned to someone.

Few seconds later, the kid he had meet on his first day, for the life of him he could not remember his name, came to stand next to Noah.

“You made it!”

“Luke, this is Marc.”

Luke blinked when Marc smiled at him, waving cautiously. “We met.”

Sudden rumbling, like feet running against carpet followed before Luke could respond, and he heard a soft, “But we haven’t.”

Luke’s eyes fell on bright red hair first, barely controlled by a headband. There were curls fighting for freedom against it. The hair was accompanied by a slightly chubby but pretty, freckled face. “Hi. I’m Evie. It’s nice to meet you. Finally.”

Before he could, reply there was another thud from the hallway and Luke blinked when in his doorway bounded a jumble of arms and angles. A huge smile, large wave at him, and the pale blonde knocked into Noah. Luke noted the way they all tensed, looking down both ends of the hallway immediately. Noah moved back a few inches and pointed at the bundle. “This is Ryan. He’s only been a here a couple of weeks longer then you.”

Evie patted Ryan’s shoulder and he leaned his head in a little. “I’m Ryan’s senior, of course.” She glanced at Noah, then back at Luke. “Usually they pair up, you know, boy slash girl…but well, I guess you got lucky.” There was something in her voice, which made Luke pay attention. A small detail he was missing. It had bothered him. This place, so full of secrets and agendas, irked him. It looked like those secrets extending farther then he thought. That little hope he had held on of trusting Noah dissipated.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone.

Ryan grinned and Luke found, that despite how his insides hurt, he grinned back. It was contagious because Marc laughed at them. Ryan kicked his shin a little, but followed suit, and let out a giggle. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen and Luke could sense, that like himself, Ryan was unwilling to let anyone change who he was. His eyes drifted to Noah, who seemed to be keeping a watch down the hall, and wondered how much of whom he was, had been taken. He cleared his throat and stuck his hand out, hesitating for a moment. “I did read that we are allowed to shake hands, right?”

He posed the question to Noah, his voice not hiding the disdain for the rule. When he received a nod in return, Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes and shook hands with all three teenagers. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Noah’s told us a lot about you. Ow!” Ryan glared at Marc whose elbow had hit him on the side. “What? He has!”

Luke pretended not to look at Noah but he could see from where he stood that his face took on a pink hue and he tried not to let the butterflies in his stomach loose. It did not mean anything. Of course, he talked about Luke. What the hell else would they have to talk about here? Their therapy? They didn’t seem the type to rehash it.

“Well, it’s nice to know he actually, you know, talks.”

Marc grinned then. “Oh. Well. No, he really kinda doesn’t.” He looked over at Noah, who was glaring at him. “Noah is more of a ‘do’ rather than ‘say’ guy.”

“Oh, stop bothering, Noah.” Evie slapped Marc’s shoulder then looking between Luke and Noah, she asked, “We were kinda hoping you guys wanted to have lunch with us?”

Luke nodded immediately, not paying any attention to the uncertainty on Noah’s face. “I would like that. Yeah. Sucks to eat alone.” He realized as soon as he said it and his eyes flicked to Noah’s. “I mean, well…not that you weren’t…”

Noah shook his head, hiding his eyes in plain sight, like a shield going up. “No. I understand.” He looked away to Evie and motioned down the hall, “Why don’t you guys go ahead. I’ll meet you there in just a little bit.” Without waiting for them to say anything, Noah marched down the opposite way. Luke watched him go, feeling as he if had just lost something important he hadn‘t realized he‘d had.

“Damn it.”

*


Constable Florentine stared at the American in his office, trying not to let the fear that just the name Grimaldi made him feel show. “I see. And you say that Damian Grimaldi has your son?”

Holden shook his head. “No. I am saying that he took my son and has him somewhere else.”

“If he doesn’t have your son…”

Holden resisted the urge to punch the coward and said through clenched teeth. “He knows where my son is.”

Florentine nodded and made a knowing hmmm noise, radiating concern and honesty. If that was possible when you were a crooked piece of shit, Holden thought. “Look, I just need to know that if I find my son, I will have no problems with the local authorities becoming involved. That’s all.” Not completely untrue.

“Of course not, senor. Your son would be your concern.” Florentine held up one finger, tapping it against his chin. “The problem is that you also said the boy is Mr. Grimaldi’s son as well, no?”

Holden raised an eyebrow. “I suppose, in the sense that he was there at conception, yeah.” He hated to think of that. That if the fates had been kinder, he would have been Luke’s father in every sense. That none of this would have been possible in any way.

“Yes, of course. However, that does give him…”

“He has no legal rights. I am Luke’s legal father. The only one that counts.”

Florentine looked taken back. “Yes, senor. Well, I will make sure to let you know if we do hear or see anything that would lead you to your son.”

Holden stood up, nodding, unable to even pretend any politeness by taking the hand Florentine held out to him. At the glare Holden gave him, the other man let the hand fall to his side. “Make sure you do.” He left without a backward glance.

Florentine waited ten minutes before calling his secretary and asking that she hold off all his calls. Dialing the familiar number, he jumped, when the voice on the other end barked out his name, in irritation. “This had better be important, Constable.”

“Sir. There is an American looking for you. He was just in my office.” Florentine glanced around his surroundings, afraid that Holden had left in his wake some trap.

“I see. Well, perhaps it would be good if you came to see me.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

Florentine let the phone fall on its hook and moving swiftly, considering he was a man so portly, he waddled everywhere he went, picked up his jacket and hat. Calling out to his assistant as he went, “All meetings were canceled and to go home.” It would take him the rest of the day to reach Grimaldi’s house.

He headed out of the door, looking to his left and to his right, tipping his hat at the senoritas that passed him by. He was nothing, if not polite. It was part of his job. One that Grimaldi had given him in return for taking care of unpleasant situations that could not be afforded by his boss. Adjusting his hat, he glanced behind him once, narrowing beady black eyes in search of anything suspicious, and when nothing appeared, he proceeded to take the long trek to his destination.

With any luck, the American had moved on already.

*

Holden watched from the shadows, one hand on his phone as he followed Florentine’s course up the steep hill. He flipped open his cell, typing in a text to Jack.

I think I found him. Be in touch.

That would have to satisfy him for now. He knew his cousin would have more to say. Would want to know more details. Holden couldn’t take a chance of losing his lead now. He was too close now. He turned his cell off, afraid that whatever response Jack would have would give him away.

He waited until he was sure there was enough distance between himself and the other man, before slinking after him, keeping to the shadows.

‘I’m almost there, Luke. Stay safe.’


*


“Come on, Holden!” Jack tried for what was the tenth time to reach his cousin. The cryptic little message he had found in his phone that morning had set off internal alarms. Holden was getting in over his head. His pursuit for Luke clouding his normally clear vision.

“Jack?”

Jack turned to see Parker staring at him, one hand holding onto his backpack, the other clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Hey, kiddo. How goes it?” He put his phone down, hugging his son tightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Was that about Luke?”

It scared Jack sometimes, how perceptive Parker could be. His sixth sense had saved Jack’s own life once but he still refused to acknowledge that it was more than just some inner sensitivity that Parker possessed. That was all it was. Regardless of what Carly thought.

“In a way. I was just trying to see if I could get a hold of Holden. Find out what’s going on.”

Parker looked like he wanted to say something but nodded his head instead. “Right.”

Jack tried to smile, ruffled Parker’s hair just a little. “Hey, buddy. Don’t worry. We’ll find him, okay?”

Parker didn’t say anything. “You’ll try. I know that, Jack.” He knew that much. His dad and Jack would do the best they could. They always did.

“It’ll work out, buddy.” Jack hugged him tight. “Hal and I aren’t going to give up looking for Luke. Neither will Holden.”

Parker closed his eyes, pushing away the memories of dreams he had been having. Luke screaming, holding onto something or someone in a place dark and damp. Somewhere far away…

They were only dreams. He repeated that to himself as he let Jack guide him to his car and drive him home.

They were only dreams.


*


Wherever the hell the constable was going, Holden was sure, he would find some clue to his son. He had to find Luke. When Lily woke up, their son had to be there with her. That was a promise he wanted to keep. The hill had turned into a mountain, rocks jutted out from the sides, sharp and careless. He stepped quietly, breathing as shallowly as possible as he watched Florentine make his way up the steep road. Holden assumed this was a path the other man took often because he didn’t break stride.

Holden stopped, backing into the wall of the mountainside, when Florentine glanced behind. He was far enough back and with luck, hidden in the shadows. Holden waited a few moments, and then slowly craned his head out to see. He caught Florentine disappearing through what appeared to be a door cut into the side of the mountain.

Christ, who the hell did Damian think he was? Batman?

Holden shook his head. In the years he had dealt with the man; nothing that Grimaldi did or said surprised him, so why start now? Moving swiftly, Holden ran to the door attempting to stop it from closing completely. He stuck in his foot, crushing it slightly and wincing in pain. He bit back the curses that wanted to escape. He held it that way for some time, wanting to give Florentine some lead way. He still needed to be as unknown as possible.

When he was sure that enough time had passed, he shoved at the heavy door, peering in cautiously. The narrow hallway built into the mountain had been wired with lights, sparsely placed, but there. Holden stepped inside, jumping when the scrap of the door echoed down the hall as it closed. He closed his eyes, praying that Florentine had been too far to hear it. He didn’t want to waste any more time worrying.

He jogged his way in the lowly lit path, pausing when he heard footsteps some yards in front of him. He could make out the top of Florentine’s head, hat bouncing in the light and Holden paused, waited until he was almost out of sight before following. They traveled for some time and he began to wonder if maybe Florentine had other business here. Maybe he wasn’t there to see Damian.

Then, he heard the sound of voices arguing quietly.

One of them was Florentine, the other, Holden wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard it before.

When they stopped, he decided to take a risk and closed the distance between where they were and he was. He reached the end of the hall and found another door with a note pinned to the outside.

Come in and make yourself comfortable, Holden. You’ll be here a while.

Holden yanked the door open, stumbling into a den, shelves and shelves of books, framed paintings, and oddities that only the rich would think to own lining the walls. His eyes adjusted to the brightness after a few moments and he made out a tall, lanky figure in a suit standing at the large oak desk.

“Mr. Snyder, you were expected, sir.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Charles. Mr. Damian’s personal butler.”

Holden blinked. “I think Damian might have read a few too many comics in his day.”

Charles furrowed his brow. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Nothing, Charles. Where is your boss?” He started toward the center of the room, glancing around as he did. He still wasn’t sure what Lily had ever seen in Damian but he guessed it had a lot to do with rooms like this one. They made you think of intelligence. Sadly, it was underlined with greed and cruelty, more often than not.

“Mr. Grimaldi sends his apologies, but he was unable to stay to greet you, sir.”

Holden sighed, head hanging low. “Damn it.” He glanced at Charles, caught what looked like a glimmer of sympathy in the older man’s face. “Is this how he really wants it to happen? He wants to have me chase him all over the world? Not have one moment’s peace? Because that is what’s going to happen, Charles.” Holden moved closer, spreading his arms out. “I will not stop looking for Luke. Ever.”

Charles nodded. “He knows that, sir. You won’t have to look. Not forever.”

Holden gave a bitter laugh. “Of course not. Just until Damian is satisfied that Luke is the kind of man he wants him to be.” He ran a hand down his face. “You would think Damian of all people would understand what bullshit that is.”

“You would, sir.”

Holden glanced at Charles and that kindness he saw there was not an illusion. However, neither was the resolve of steel he could see. Charles wasn’t going to give Holden anything on Damian. He would protect him. Holden recognized it immediately. He felt the same way about Luke. “So, now what?”

“Now, you eat dinner, sir. And when it’s done, one of our drivers will take you wherever you want to go.”

Holden ran a hand through his hair.

He was back at square one.


*


“It seems to me, Reverend, it is becoming exceedingly difficult to get through to these children using your methods.” Kreeger spoke softly. He sipped lazily at the wine he had been given. “Perhaps, it’s time to reconsider another option.”

Reverend Davidson smiled benignly, his eyes casting darkness into the room, that did not quite belie the compassion he prided himself for. “It’s been working just fine, Ross. For many years. Your parents believed in it as much as I do. It’s why they left us in charge of the program.”

His parents had created Safe Haven in an attempt to save his younger brother. Ross remembered clearly those days when it had first occurred to him that not everything was what it seemed. That was many years before. His brother’s life hadn’t been saved and in the process, he had destroyed the rest of the family’s. At least, that was how Kreeger saw it.

His brother had caused their family to destroy itself.

That, however, was unimportant. He had to deal with the present. He had spent the better part of ten years humoring the fundamentalists that dominated the Board of Directors for the program.

“God has a plan for every single one of those children.” Kreeger watched Davidson’s hands as they formed a steeple beneath his chin. “They need guidance. Ours. They need to understand why they left the light. We need to do that for them. They do not understand in any form. We are their salvation, Ross.”

Kreeger smiled, counting internally until he reached one hundred, then going backwards. He had learned that coping mechanism as a child. “Of course we are, Matthew.”

“I’m glad to hear you still believe that.”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

Reverend cocked his head to one side, lips twisted in a bitter, condescending line. “Perhaps it’s the fact that you seemed determined to use your experiment as a way for a cure.” Eyes narrowed at him and Kreeger fought the urge to squirm just a bit under the scrutiny. “When we allowed you access to the program, it was under the strict assumption that if, and it was a highly big if, it ever became the only option, you would be allowed it.”

“I understand that, of course.”

“Good. Not all is lost for these children. God is the first and most important way. We must show them what is wrong. Using logic and the words they need to hear. God‘s words.”

Kreeger nodded. “I know that, Matthew.” He waited, pausing dramatically, knowing that what he had to say would change a lot. “It looks like we might have a situation where that isn’t working.” That got the Reverend’s attention and Kreeger smirked inwardly. He tsked as he continued, “Mayer.”

Davidson tensed, eyes sharp and burning with anger. “Again? Did we not just take care of a problem with him?”

“That is what I mean, Matthew. After what happened, he was punished, as per the rules. We thought it would be okay, however, he‘s attaching himself again, it looks like.”

“I see. Well, that does change things, doesn‘t it?”

Kreeger bore a concerned, understanding expression as he listened, mind whirring with possibilities. He waited to see the new decision.

“Keep a close eye on him.”

“Of course.”


There was a pause and then the statement he was waiting for.

“If nothing changes, then, I will personally make sure the board gives permission to re-start your program.”

*

Luke thought that the first few weeks would be the hardest to take. All the rules and regulations they had to follow. All the therapy that would be forced on him. The constant watchful eye of the staff and seniors. It wasn’t that difficult at first, mostly because he was still in shock. Some part of him thought that, it was a nightmare, and he would wake up at the farm with Faith, jumping up and down on his bed, making him laugh too early in the morning,

It wasn’t a dream. He learned that soon enough.

The first month passed like nothing, like water dripping from his hands, in constant flow. Time didn’t register. Mostly, he thought that had to do with the company he kept.

Evie, Marc, and Ryan hated the place. Just as much as Luke did. They passed the time making comments under their breath at the other “members” of the program or the staff. Ryan had an incredible talent for drawing. All kinds of styles but mostly animation was his forte. Comics were his favorite as a kid, he told Luke once. He was amazing in Luke’s opinion. A lot of the time, during what they called classes, if the lecturing on how much God loved them despite their utter failure as human beings could be called that, Ryan would find a way to pass his latest work around to them. It was against the rules, but what wasn't? They learned fast to get a good look at it before handing it to Noah, who after staring at it for some moments, would fold the paper neatly, and stuff it in whatever book was on his desk, stopping their fun immediately.

It annoyed Luke to no end that he would do that. Take something Ryan created and hold it back. Most likely throwing it away in fear at what would happen to them. It wasn’t good enough of an excuse for Luke. He was ready to tell Noah all this when he mentioned it to Ryan, who blinked at him for a moment and then laughed. “Dude, he doesn’t throw them away or anything. He has these, like, portfolios hidden away somewhere. Don’t ask me where, he won’t tell me. He puts them all in there, and when I go home, I’ll get to take them all with me. Noah says as a reminder of what I survived, you know?” Ryan grinned at Luke before turning back to his tray of food.

It made Luke’s heart skip, just a bit, to know that. Noah wasn’t a total lost case.

There was something there in his eyes a lot of the time when he looked at Ryan, and Luke caught it when he looked at him, too. This sadness, mixed with anxiety, which he couldn’t understand. He asked Marc about it once, but all he received was the shake of a head, and a finger pressed to his lips. They weren’t supposed to talk about it.

Every night, he wrote letters to his parents, his sisters, Jade, anyone and everyone, he loved or cared about. They were piling up in a folder he kept on his desk. That had been Evie’s suggestion.


“Keep it in plain sight, babe. They never look at that.”

It worked. Every day, when they came to inspect his room, to see how he was doing, checking under his bed, in his closet, through his desk, they never opened the folder which sat next to the workbooks they had handed him at the beginning.

It was his inability not to snark, which was the problem. With nothing to do except therapy and eat for his first month, his mind would run a million miles a minute. He needed to write or do something. To stand up for what he believed, in some way. It was not his nature to roll over and take it. He had struggled too long and he wasn’t about to go back to that torturing lack of power.

The first time that he heard the words, “Homosexuality is against God’s plan, but you are all His children and He loves you, despite that. He wants to heal you and make you worthy of him,” he had barely swallowed his rage. He had opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a muffled “Ow!” He had glared at Marc, who had kicked him in his shin.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Snyder?” Marcie was staring at him now.

When he went to answer, he felt Evie’s hands on his back, digging her nails in. She answered quickly. “No, ma’am. It just looks like he hit his leg on the desk.”

Marcie nodded. “Be more careful, Luke.”

She returned to the class, telling them what it would require to enter Heaven and how to save their dirty, little souls. At least, that was what Luke heard. He glared at Marc, and then his eyes found Noah’s, whose own were flashing with heat. It made his breath catch a little.

As they walked to their rooms later, Evie just behind them, Noah turned and stopped to look at him. Evie bumped into them, looking at Noah, a little shock, a lot of hope shining there.

“Luke, you just…” Noah ran a hand through his hair and when he spoke again, there was something like pleading in his voice. “I know it’s hard to…I know it’s hard. But you have to survive. Sometimes that means letting them think they win. It means taking their crap.”

It was the most he had spoken to Luke since his first day out of solitary and it was so new that Luke could only nod.

The words only began to sink in much later.

There was a lot more going on with Noah, then he let on.

After that, he passed a lot of the time on kitchen duty with Marc and two other members of the program. The girls took their duty seriously and Luke could see the tearing down of who they were, everyday. He and Marc would fork out food during meal times, making faces at Evie and Ryan when they came by. They always snapped their fingers quietly and told them to hurry it up, under their breath. It felt in some ways normal to have friends like them. They were a little crazy, a little funny, and in the same position as he was. Seeing them, knowing that this place didn’t always break you gave him hope. Noah would shake his head, take the tray given to him, and thank them softly. Luke would watch him walk behind the other two, putting a hand on Evie’s shoulder and she in turn would do it to Ryan.

He asked Marc about it and he shrugged. “He’s just looking out for us, man. He knows when they’re watching.”

“They’re always watching.” Luke muttered, slinging potatoes into one of the tray sections.

“Sometimes they’re watching more closely than others.”

Luke was aware that was right. He hadn’t been there that long but he could tell. Their faces would strain whenever any two boys stood too close together, when girls would huddle in a crowd. They would move with speed to break it up. Sometimes, he would notice that two members had to talk with one of the other members or a staff person between them. When he pointed that out, everyone fell silent, eyes falling everywhere but at Luke.

“What?”

Noah turned to glance around at him. “They call them On Level clients. It’s two - it’s just two people they don’t trust being alone together. On Level’s can’t speak to any other On Level without someone between them, like a chaperone.”

“See, that makes no sense.” Luke lowered his voice, his eyes following the staff members that walked through the cafeteria during lunch, listening to conversations. Paul was on their side today. He was one of the lesser strict ones, something Evie said was getting him into trouble a lot lately. “Their greatest fear is that we’re going to let the gay out, right? So why aren’t they stricter about things? For example, we’re sitting here, four guys and one girl. We do this all the time. Why aren’t they more cautious?”

“We don’t always get to do this, you know?” Evie pointed out as she swallowed her food. “Like when we watch a movie or sit in class, during therapy, its boy, girl, boy, girl. If you and I hug, no problem. They encourage us to get involved with the opposite sex, as much as possible. So, at these times, where they are everywhere and can see us, they try to pretend that this place isn’t what it is. And besides that, they just know.”

Luke blinked. “Know what?”

“Who can be near who.” Marc finished as if it was obvious, looking at Luke as if he wasn’t as bright as he should be.

When Luke only shook his head, Ryan leaned in, whispered. “They got crazy gaydar, Luke, okay? They know, just know, who they have to be watching.” Ryan pointed at himself, and then to Luke’s surprise, he pointed at Luke and then Noah. “If anyone of us where anywhere alone with, well, me with someone that will go unnamed, and the two of you together, they would be on us like white on rice.”

Luke watched Noah’s fingers flex on his fork tightly but he continued to eat, not looking at him or Ryan.

Wait? Him and Noah? That was ridiculous. Noah was, well, his friend. Sort of.

When Kevin suddenly came into his mind, Luke choked on his potatoes. He tried to get them to go down, but all he managed was to lodge it deeper in there. He wheezed, one hand reaching for his neck, the other flopping helplessly in the air. Noah looked horrified and immediately stood up. He picked Luke up, his hands coming round to Luke’s stomach, pressing in and up, once, twice, three times until Luke felt something move out of his mouth. He heard a vague disgusted sound but he couldn’t open his eyes to look. He tried to breath. The air came in slowly and he became aware of someone patting him gently on the back until he stopped coughing. When it was over, he could feel the heat from Noah’s hand on his back, seeping through the material of his shirt. “Thanks, man.” It was rough and low, his throat a little raw from all the coughing.

Noah’s hand left his back but not before trailing down slightly, sending a shiver through Luke.

“No problem.”

One of the staff, Susie, came over then, asking if everything was all right. They all nodded, explaining that Luke had been choking and Noah had helped him. Susie glared at Noah, gritting her teeth a little. “Of course. Noah is always there to help.” She motioned to Noah and he nodded, quietly pulling back from the table to follow her.

Luke got up then, trying to stop it. He had helped him. “Wait.”

Evie’s hand was on his shoulder and she forced him back down. “Not now, Luke. No. He can take care of himself. Trust us on that, okay?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to take that. He didn’t trust this place. He spent his nights plotting ways to leave. There was no way to get help. No phones, no computers, his letters would never make it. He had to rely on himself and he knew that. So trusting them was not going to happen.

Evie squeezed his shoulder hard. “I know this is hard for you, Luke. But you got to trust Noah. He’s trying to help.”

“It’ll be fine.” Marc had added, his face showing only concern and some fear.

*

However, it had not been fine.

Noah had been put on probation and sent down to solitary for a week.

Marc and Evie had exchanged looks and whispered conversations, but neither seemed to blame Luke. This was fine because he blamed himself enough.

He could barely sleep or eat. Every day he would ask Evie about Noah and everyday she would shake her head, saying he would be fine. That Luke needed to concentrate on himself. Four days into Noah‘s punishment, Evie and Marc exchanged a look before Evie said, quietly, “It’s going to get worse for you, Luke.”

Her voice gave him pause and when he looked over at Marc and Ryan, he saw in their faces, their fear, for him.

“Evie…”

“Your personal therapy sessions are starting, Luke. Those...are hard.”

Part Three




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