rising from the ground

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Title: What Is Undone
Rating: R
Chapter: Part Three
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. Thank you!
W/C: 6536
Warnings: Attitudes that will piss you off, some violence, definite cursing...a little cracky which begins here.
Author’s Note: EPICNESS leads to crackliousness. This starts to lean toward the sci-fish. Just saying! 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
Part Two





Part Three



Noah closed his eyes against the dull ache in his head where the technicians had placed the diodes, and sharp pain in his ribs from the tight strap across his stomach. He could feel the heat of the electric pads on his forehead.

"It's only for your own good, Noah.” Marcie's voice soft, lulling, hands smoothing over his sweat-drenched skin. "We want you to understand that.” She leaned in closer, and through half-closed eyes, he could see that she was enjoying this.

This was a new level of therapy, he supposed. They warned that if one did not work the next one would be more difficult to ignore. He should have listened and paid more attention.

"God loves you, Noah. Remember that."

He closed his eyes and blocked her voice as best he could.

"We know how it feels for you. A father that never loved you. But Noah, we've talked about this. The distance between your father and you, it's all because of the person you think you are.” The hand trailed down his cheek, caressing in a way that made his blood run cold. Nausea overtook him, he tried to turn his face, and breath though it. "If you let yourself be the man we all want you to be, your life would be so much easier."

Noah tuned out. He already knew this song by heart, didn't he? It was his fault that his father hated him. He knew that. It was his fault his mother had died. That had been made clear. He remembered that conversation. Marcie and Dr. Kreeger had eluded to Noah's feelings, wants, needs, and attitude as the possible reason his mother was gone. Somehow, his mother had known and chosen death.

He burbled out a laugh, choking on a bit of vomit that had accumulated in his throat. He spit it on the pristine floor, focusing on the white tiles.

"Don't make it more difficult."

Small shocks ran through him and he grimaced. He knew this was not how it normally went. They were insistent that his way, that being who he wanted so desperately to be, was wrong. Moreover, maybe they were right.

His mind flashed to blonde hair and shining hazel eyes, to laughter he hadn’t heard in too long. There were others who would never make it. Not because they would break, but because they could not. He wasn’t sure what choice he had in the matter, but he knew he had already let down one person. He could not let down another.

There had been a plan. What was the plan?

It rattled around his head, grasping to solidly as another shock hit him. He arched up, his body tensing against it, then, it was gone again.

He could not let it get away from him.

Repeatedly, he thought of the plan.

Marcie unclasped his hands and legs, the undid the strap across his body, guiding him to sit upright, folding his body into a shirt that was not his. She combed through his hair, humming quietly as she went. When she was done, he moved slowly, stumbling as his feet reached the floor. Marcie's hands wrapped around his waist and she took him step by step to the door.

"It's over now, sweetheart. We're all tested every day. You passed. See? Still with us.” Wiping at his forehead with a towel, she deposited him on the bed, in the lone room hidden somewhere inside that huge house. Noah tried to remember that this wasn’t a normal part of the mansion. That whatever this was, it had nothing to do with the program. It was different.

"Tomorrow will be easier. No more electroshock. Just you and me, talking about how you feel, and what we can do to help you reach God again.” Her hands stroked his cheeks and Noah closed his eyes, reeling away. It was like when he was a kid, and was left alone and he pretended that he was stranded on an island, like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Just him and his companion, Wilson.

"It will get better tomorrow."

The door closed soundly behind Marcie and Noah took in a deep breath, eyes remaining closed. He was somewhere warm, with sand and water. He loved the water. The sun beating down on him. There were people further down the beach, waving at him. He recognized them, or he thought he should but for some reason, he couldn’t remember their names.

What were their names?

There was a plan. There had always been a plan. What was it?

The longer he stared, the less he knew who they were. Their frantic waves started to scare him. His mind was a jumble of images, all torn from his memories, spliced together by electricity and wiring. He could not remember what he wanted. It was within reach, the thought he knew he should have. Curling into himself, his head on the pillow, he trembled.

"God loves you. What you are, who you chose to be, He can't allow. But He loves you."

There was that. God loved him.

He couldn’t remember what he wanted.

"Why did you come back, Noah?"

"I have a plan...”

Noah cradled his head in his hands, holding it in, that constant ache that wanted to release. If he did, he feared he would be dead. Then what? What happened to them all?

Who were they? He could not remember.

"You aren't my son. But I'm going to make sure that you become a man.” Hands gripping at his shirt, dragging him into a car, flinging a bag at him. "You'll be the man I raised you to be, if it kills me."

Noah fought against all those feelings that made him who he was. Fought them as hard as he could. He had almost made it. They had him convinced. He had been confused. He secretly hated his father, had purposely gone against the man his father was. Feeling abandoned, he had sought that somewhere else.

They had him convinced he was wrong.

He had started to see differently.

Memories of blood and tears, of a limp body and unrecognizable face, broke down walls that had been built. Noah gasped out.

They had him until David.

David.

Noah scrambled for the pieces scattered in his mind. He had survived those electric tortures once. He had this time, again. The puzzle was forming. The faces on that beach became clearer. Ryan.

Evie.

Marc.

They were there, waiting. He had a plan. He did.

"Save them all. Save yourself.” David's final words echoed over Noah's screams. "Find the truth."

The truth, find the truth.

That was what he needed: the truth. It set one free. Wasn't that what they said?

The truth shall set you free.

Deep hazel eyes and a smile that would not stop. That might be his truth.

His heart beat again, like a new wind had breezed past it, giving it the life it was missing. He forced his body into a sitting position, shaking hands wiping away sweat and tears he hadn’t realized had fallen. He had a plan.

His eyes fell on the door, making notes of what he saw. It was still too soon. Too many currents frying his mind, but he would take in the details later. He would remember everything.

*

“What the hell do you mean he’s On Level, now?” Luke hissed at Evie while they walked down one of the paths in the garden. They had made it a habit to walk together after meals. Evie had approached him with the idea. If they thought they were reaching them, they would back off some.

Luke had stared at her as if she had sprung a second head. “That’s insane. “

Evie had quirked an eyebrow and stated quietly, “It was Noah’s idea. “

They started their walks that night.

It was his second month and he was now allowed other activities: everything from water skiing at the lake behind the house to pottery. He liked hiking. It afforded some quiet and even alone time if he ignored the guards, or staff, that roamed freely. He wondered if they were kept in a cage at night.

One started to follow them; Luke barely suppressed the urge to snap at them. Evie leaned in closer, whispering, “Don’t, Luke.”

He wasn’t sure when he had become that transparent.

Evie put her arm though his, making it look good. They received a smile from one their stalkers and he gave them more space, turning to follow two others. This had become their routine now.

“Noah just is now.” Evie said, answering his earlier question. Luke glanced at her eyes, while his were narrowed and angry.

“Because he stopped me from dying?”

“Because he touched you, Luke. He wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Luke pulled away, more than a little horrified. “Are you shitting me?”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t say I agreed. I’m all for you two touching each other, long as I get to see it.” She wiggled her eyebrows, bumping into him.

Luke smiled a little. “Lesbians are into boy on boy action these days?”

Evie snorted. “This lesbian is.”

Luke’s smile fell though and she touched his shoulder. “Luke, he has survived worse, okay?” Her eyes were sad as she said it and she shook her head before Luke even asked. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.”

“You can’t. Until this is over, he cannot talk to any of us. It’s his punishment.”

*

Kreeger watched the Snyder boy walking arm in arm with the Matthews girl and his fist clenched at his side. That would not do. Snyder was the perfect candidate for the project. Rich family, or father, who had given them all the money they needed to fix his son. He was difficult, proud and would be nearly impossible to break.

He had wanted Mayer, though.

It has been his aim, his goal. With Mayer, there had been no hesitation from his father about what Kreeger had to do.

Mayer had proved difficult. He had been trained to take orders even if he didn’t believe in them and had not broken the rules until the Sawyer boy, and that in itself had been a miscalculation by Kreeger. He had been sure it was going to work but it hadn’t.

It had taken him five months to convince the board, the members of the clergy at the program, to allow him to run his project. He had made sure to clarify that it would be a last resort, only for those that could not be helped any other way. It was the amount of money it could bring in that had finally made it pass.

Money was a powerful ally.

He moved swiftly from his office, the one they had accommodated for him when he was hired, passing the doors of classes and therapy sessions, as he went. He refrained from laughing at all the religious talk. It was a wonder he didn’t lose it completely.

He was the only God here.

His mind, his life’s work was their only salvation.

He smiled as he walked through the security door at the end of the main hall, nodding at the staff that watched the monitors carefully. Everything but the living quarters were equipped with bugs and cameras. Inspectors had made it clear that was violation of all regulations and they had been forced to remove them, instilling the open door policy.

That would change eventually if Kreeger had anything to say about it.

He left the staff to their work, opening another door with his keycard and stepping into the cold, steel walls that lead to his lab. He breathed in the faint smell of chemicals, the burning heat of computers and machines whirring around him, and he felt powerful. He could hear voices; one a little more panicked then the others.

The hall opened up into a cavernous room, sectioned off for research, developments, processing, it was not what he had wanted. However, there was time for it to expand, to grow. That was why he had started here. It made it easier to hide the failures when they happened. They inevitably always happened.

He could hear arguing and his feet headed in that direction, almost bouncing with anticipation. Strapped to the chair, the new experiment he had managed to be sanctioned by the committee for use here, was one of their very own.

Paul struggled against the restraints, wide eyes staring at those around him. People he trusted, that apparently, he shouldn’t have.

“Dr. Kreeger…”

“Paul. Paul. Why didn’t you listen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t act the fool, Paul. I’ve been keeping a close watch on you. You were warned.”

“Please….”

“You should have stayed away from the boy, Paul.” Kreeger circled around, checking the buckles of the straps. He gently pushed Paul’s head back, pulling the last strap across his forehead. “It would have made it easier.”

“I -- I’m sorry.”

He gentled his touch just a bit. He had liked Paul. “It’s too late. You’re going to be the first from your little group.” He leaned in, speaking into Paul’s ear softly. “But if it makes you feel any better, if it helps your romantic sensibilities, you won’t be the last.” He came round to face the young man.

Paul eyes widened in terror. “Ryan…don’t. What are you going to do?”

Kreeger smiled at Paul. “Nothing you need to worry about anymore, my friend.” He ran his hand over Paul’s head, leaning in to whisper softly. “It’ll only hurt for one moment. Then, everything will be as it should be.”

*

Lucinda Walsh was known for many things: her strength, her business savvy, her hard-earned fortune (nobody needed to ask how she earned it, thank you), and her determination. The only quality that stood out, even among the rest, was her loyalty to family. Her love for those that belonged to her, in some sense. It was that love and loyalty that kept her going as the days turned into weeks and her daughter was still in a coma.

Her grandson was still missing.

In was beyond any logic she could understand that they still had not found Luke. Not all her resources, an entire taskforce of the OPD and the FBI had found neither hide nor hair of Luke. Even the PI she had hired had nothing to tell her of her grandson.

Nothing.

In addition, of Damian, even less.

However, that was not surprising. Her ex-son-in-law had always been more than capable of keeping underground until it suited him. It was something she would never admit she had almost admired in him. His ability to lose himself. It was something she sometimes wished for herself.

Her hands stroked over Lily’s head, readjusting strands of hair that had fallen on her daughter’s face.

“You have to wake up, sweetheart. We need you. Holden can’t keep doing this alone. It’s wearing him out.” She squeezed the warm, still hand held between her own. “Luke needs you, Lily. You’ve always been there. Please.”

It was the same conversation she had been having with Lily for what, seemed like ages now.

There was never any response but Lucinda kept trying.

It was all she could do. Every available avenue to find her grandson had been taken.

There was a knock at the door and when Lucinda turned, she was more than a little surprised to see Henry Coleman standing there.

“Henry? What are you doing here?”

He sighed, looking away then back at her. “I wanted to help, Lucinda. I heard about Luke.”

Lucinda raised an eyebrow, smirking for the first time in weeks. “You want to help out of the goodness of your heart, Henry?” She cared for Henry. He was a good person, under all the bravado and the schemes.

“Well, not exactly, no. While I was going to offer my services to find him.” Henry smiled at her a bit sheepishly. “I was hoping to be paid here.”

Honesty was another thing she admired in Henry, when he let it out.

“Well, Henry. I think we can work something out.”

*

Holden stood in the doorway of the farm, staring at the table full of family, eating in relative silence. He knew it was supposed to be comforting. It should have been.

Without Lily or Luke, it was like a huge hole was ripped into the fabric of their lives and until they were back, nothing made sense or mattered.

He was bone tired. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.

It would be two months, that Luke had been gone and Lily had been asleep. It was too much to take.

Jade had seen him through the window, and for once, she had chosen to react quietly. Leaving the table, she stepped outside, searching his face for any sign of hope. “Anything?”

“No.”

Her face crumpled a little but she held back, taking a deep breath, as she sat down. “I’m sorry. It’s just. We weren’t in the best place when he left and despite what you all think, I do love him. I do. He was the only person to give me a chance even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Holden searched his reserves for strength, found it somewhere deep inside, and touched his hand to Jade’s head, patting it gently. “I’m going to find him, Jade.”

She nodded, hands covering her face. “I know you will.” She sniffed, looking up at him and shrugging. “I just didn’t know how important he was until he was gone.”

Holden understood that much. He had known Luke’s importance to him, he was his son, but it was reinforced every day he was gone.

“Come on. Let’s get inside.”

He had no news to impart, but maybe that comforting silence would help him, re-energize him, and give him hope.

For the first time, Holden Snyder had no clue what to do to save his family.

*

Luke gripped the arms of his chair, staring with little emotion at Kreeger. The last hour had been a waste of both their times, but it seemed inevitable, that this would be his new routine. Two daily one hour sessions with Kreeger, then group, meal break, his walk with Evie, evening group and bed. A cycle that seemed hard to break. How or where in all that, he was going to manage a plan to escape, he had no idea.

"So, you say that your Dad was not a permanent fixture in your life?"

Luke narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "My Dad spent all his time making me into the man I am today. Damian, if that is who you're referring to, had very little to do with my life. I wish it had stayed that way."

"Your father loves you.” Kreeger held up a hand when Luke snorted, waving it off. "That's why he sent you here, Luke."

"Because he loves me? I highly doubt that."

The door opened and Luke glanced behind him at the man that entered. He seemed familiar but Luke wasn’t sure how he knew him.

"Ross, why don't you give me a minute with young Luke?"

Luke had the presence not to bid Kreeger a "May the force be with you."

His eyes fell on this new man. He wore dark clothes and on his collar, there was the standard clergyman chokehold. Luke stared straight at him, cocking one eyebrow. "I haven't seen you before."

The man smiled, what was supposed to be warmly. Luke wasn’t sure if that was the right word for it. It was calculated, as if he knew what he was supposed to say. He was sure that Kreeger, and this man, had learned a lot about manipulation in their day.

However, he was a Snyder, raised by a Walsh and even though it should not have been helpful, throwing in the Grimaldi gene made it nearly impossible for him to give in. He came by his stubbornness honestly.

"So, you're here to save my life too, Father?"

"Call me Matthew, Luke."

He almost laughed at that. Matthew, Luke, and Noah.

Noah....

His face must have changed because Father Matthew put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, son. We can talk about anything that's bothering you."

Luke bit his tongue at the instant response to that. Evie had warned him that this would be the hardest part for him. He needed to be smart here. Therefore, he shook his head and leaned away from the touch. "Nothing. I'm not thinking about anything."

"I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Reverend Matthew.” He stuck his hand out to Luke and when there was no response, he shook it slightly. "Come on, son."

Luke rolled his eyes, but took the hand in his, noting how clammy and cold they seemed. Not the hands of Reverend Reynolds back in Oakdale. He was always funny, charming, and accepting. That was what they were meant to be.

"So, are you the good cop, Rev?"

The smiled fell almost instantly, rage in the eyes flaring for a moment, before being replaced by what passed for sympathy, even pity. "Son, we just want to help."

"You want to help? Let me go home."

"We will. When you're ready."

Luke snorted at that. "When is that exactly? When you've made me the man you think I should be?"

"No.” Reverend Matthew shook his head, folding his hands under his chin and closing his eyes in what Luke assumed was prayer. "When you become the man the Lord wants you to be.” He opened his eyes once more and smiled coldly. "It's understandable that you feel the need to go home, Luke. Your mother is still in a coma, isn't that right?"

Luke's eyes widened slightly and the guilt he had managed to keep away came rushing back. "You know nothing about my family."

"I know that this thing you are, hurt someone you love very much. All that guilt, Luke. All that pain inside. It all poured out and created such a force of evil that you hurt the one person that loved you the most."

Luke blocked out the words. They were not true. He had not. No. No. No. "Stop it."

Reverend put his hand on Luke's, squeezing firmly. "It's okay. We can make it better, Luke. We can fix you."

"I don't need to be fixed."

"Are you sure about that?"

Luke shook his head. Of course he was. His eyes met the Reverend's, seeing something there that scared him. "It wasn't my fault."

There was a shake of the head. "It wasn't. You lost your path from God. Now we're going to get you back on it. When you get home, your mother will know that what happened wasn't in vain."

His mother, he had hurt her, his brother, also. What had he done? It was as if a floodgate had opened now. All those emotions he had to restrain to make it through started to surface. His hand started shaking slightly.

The door opened suddenly and when Luke glanced over, he met a pair of blue eyes, tired and worn. They darkened slightly at seeing him and then a light seemed to come from within, warming Luke.

Noah.

Luke shook off the Reverend's hand, standing to look at his friend. He was alive and in one piece. He was okay. The relief he felt was sudden, and even though Luke wasn’t one to cry, his eyes watered immediately. He hadn’t believed until now that Noah was okay.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I thought it was Dr. Kreeger in here.” Marcie pulled at Noah’s sleeve but he remained in place. Like his feet where cemented to the floor. His eyes left Luke for one second, taking in the man next to him before returning to stare at Luke again. Luke watched crystalline eyes cloud over and then Noah’s head moved slightly. Almost imperceptibly. If Luke hadn’t been watching him as intently as he was, he wouldn’t have seen it.

“Noah. Come on!”

Noah allowed Marcie to pull him out into the hall and the door closed on his face.

Luke turned back around to stare at the Reverend and after sitting back down, he raised an eyebrow. “My mother, Rev, would never blame me for what happened. She’s too loving and wonderful. So, there’s no need to worry about that, is there?”

He had almost been sucked into this game, had almost believed them.

Noah had saved him again. With one shake of his head, he had reminded Luke that this place was not where he needed to be.

*

He could have been too late.

They would take Luke’s mind, who he was, if he didn’t stop them. Noah held his head in his hands, trying to keep his thoughts coherent. What was the plan? He had one. He knew he did.

He couldn’t remember right now, too tired from staying awake for so long. He hadn’t trusted they wouldn’t come in and take him to that place he had overheard Kreeger talking about. What was that place? What was it? Noah tapped his hand on head. Think, Mayer. Think.

Some place dark, which was not good.

What had David said? Nothing. He had been dead. No, that wasn’t true. He had managed something. What?

It was all still jumbled, and Noah knew he needed time to make it all cohesive again. However, time, that was not something he could afford. Had he done something with what David told him? Paper. He had written it on paper. Where?

He glanced around his room, trying to remember where that place was. It was here. They would be changing his room soon. They would never allow him across the hall from Luke. No matter how many guards roamed the halls. They would take him away from Luke. He had to find that place. But where was it?

“Noah.”

He tensed at the voice, turning slowly, to raise shaded eyes at the staff member that stood in his doorway. “It’s time for lunch.”

He nodded and silently followed behind. Did he need food? Yes. Yes, he did. He had to eat something. When he stepped into the cafeteria, the first thing he realized was that everyone was avoiding looking at one side of the room. So, Noah did. His feet stuttered to a halt as he saw an upset Ryan trying to talk to Paul. Noah wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing, but he knew somehow, that he had to help Ryan.

He reached his friend almost instantly, not touching him, but his presence was enough to cause Ryan to stop talking. He turned to look at him, eyes shining with tears he could not shed, not here, his voice soft and hurting. “Noah. He doesn’t…he doesn’t…”

“Noah. You don’t…do you? I thought you did.”

He shook his head clear and motioned to Ryan, not touching, even though he wanted to comfort, and needed to help. “I know, Ryan. Come on. Let’s go sit down.”

“But he said…”

Evie was there, taking Ryan’s arm and steering him to the table, murmuring reassurances under her breath.

Noah turned to Paul, someone he had known for as long as he had been in this program. They had seen people come and go. He had been the one to assure Noah repeatedly that he would go home one day. When he was ready. He had given hope when there wasn’t any. Paul had wanted to be his friend even when he knew he could not be. Paul had cared about them. About Ryan.

This person was not Paul.

Noah knew that. His eyes were different. Uncaring, vacant, and when Noah spoke, they focused sharply on his face.

“Are you okay, Paul?”

“Perfectly fine, Noah. And yourself?”

Noah blinked. “I’m good, thank you.”

Paul smiled, quick and too easy and then looking to the table, he shook his head. “That poor kid. He needs help.” Nothing else to say, Paul moved to another table and Noah watched as he sat next to Rachel. Brown-haired, funny Rachel who had been lost not long ago. Noah had no idea what was going on but he knew it wasn’t good.

He reached their table, breaking a rule he knew he was supposed to keep but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t allowed to talk to them yet. He handed Evie the notes he had been carrying in his pocket for days. Without another word, he walked to the front and picked up a tray. He would eat in his room. Alone. He was told to do that.

He was grateful that Luke wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure he could handle not talking to him.

Noah closed his eyes.

He ached to do so, to hear his voice, to see his face. It eased something inside him that long ago he thought would never stop hurting.

He wondered briefly if this was what love felt like.

*

Luke paced his room, jumping and freezing every time someone passed by, only to start moving again when that person was not who he expected. His wiped one hand across his forehead. He needed to see Noah. To thank him for what he had done. Even if he had not meant to or realized he had.

“Hey.”

He turned at Evie’s voice and when he saw her face, he smiled, widely, for the first time in too long. “I saw him.”

Evie nodded, eyes glistening in the light. “I did, too.”

He took a few steps to reach Evie, hugging her tightly, whispering in her ear as he did. “I saw him. He’s okay.” The tremor that followed was unexpected, Luke held tighter, when he felt his friend’s tears soak through the material of his shirt and onto his skin.

“I was so afraid they had…”

Luke pulled back, wiping tears from Evie’s face, and kissing her hand when he was finished. “He made it.”

“Noah is a lot stronger than they realize.”

Luke believed that. Not knowing everything about Noah, he knew that. He had to be to survive this place for as long as he had. Marc had told him, his second week there, that next to the staff, Noah had been the longest there. Apparently, his father was not satisfied with Noah’s progress and wanted his son to stay until he was… Luke did not even think the word.

Noah was…

As if thinking his name made it happen, he was at Luke’s doorway, eyes finding Luke’s, and it looked to Luke as if his face lightened when he did. It made Luke’s stomach quiver just a little.

“Noah.”

Evie whirled around, laughing when she saw him, throwing herself at him and Luke watched Noah’s arms encircle her, squeeze and hold for a second before he released her and stepped away. He automatically looked behind him and Luke’s heart broke just a bit.

Touching equated punishment to Noah.

“Evie.”

Luke sucked in a breath, Noah’s voice reaching out to him, trembling over his skin.

He didn’t understand what he was feeling. He had never had this reaction to anyone.

“How are you?”

He heard the words before he realized he had said them. Noah’s eyes flicked to him again and he nodded, responding softly. “I’m okay. Better now.”

Luke stepped up to the door, staring up into shadowed eyes, almost reaching out before remembering it was not allowed. “I’m sorry. I did this.”

Noah’s eyes widened slightly and he shook his head quickly. “No, you didn’t. This isn’t your fault.”

“There’s no congregating in the hallway during group time. You are all aware of that.” Paul spoke from the end of the hall, clipboard in hand, hair perfectly in place, and placid smile on his face. He waved at Noah, directing him to his room. “You’re allowed to be in your room for the day, Noah. Until you’re readjusted. Tomorrow you’re expected at therapy.”

“I’m not being moved?”

Luke glanced at Noah, seeing the grimace cross his face as he asked the question. Why would they move him?

Eerily, Paul echoed Luke’s unspoken question. “Why would we move you? That’s always been your room.” Paul sent another vacant smile their way before disappearing out of sight.

Evie touched Noah’s shoulder, probably trying to make sure, he was real. Then she sighed, jerking her head in the direction Paul had gone. “I better get back. I’m supposed to lead group today.” She smiled up at Noah and squeezed his shoulder, before heading down the hall. Turning, she walked backwards and waved, saying, “I’m so happy to see you.” Then she was gone, like Paul, leaving Noah and Luke to stare at each other, inches separating them.

Noah opened his mouth, and then closed it almost immediately. He looked away and when his eyes came back to Luke’s, they were deeper, and clear. “Hello, Luke.”

Luke grinned instantly, breath caught as he whispered back. “Hello, Noah.”

It was nothing. It was everything.

*

Holden was not sure when it changed. At first, they were all looking for Luke, believing they would find him. It was a rescue mission. The Feds and the OPD working together to get his son back. The local news aired the story and it was picked up nationally. There were calls pouring in, phone calls, letters.

People praying for his family, keeping them in their thoughts. Non-stop ringing of the phones with offers of interviews and volunteers and assistance. It was amazing, overwhelming.

Then, it stopped.

Not completely, of course. Hope never died quickly. It lingered painfully until there was nothing left but despair, emptiness, and blankness.

The calls slowed down until Holden would stare at the phone, willing it to ring. Letters, packages, and good wishes stopped coming. It was like the world had thrown its hands up and said it was over.

As two months turned to three and no trace of Luke could be found, the Feds also gave in. Two agents came to see him, speaking kindly but firmly. Reassuring him that the case was not closed, not at all. They would keep looking into it but with the length of time passing, they needed to focus on other cases. They would keep looking.

In other words, they believed Luke was either dead or simply never to be found.

Holden shook their hands, led them the back door of the farm, and watched them drive off, the dust their tires scattered mugging up the air behind them. Leaving traces in the dirt as the only sign they had been there.

Holden walked off towards the barn. There was work he had been neglecting. Aaron had taken up most of the slack, doing what was Holden’s job. Because right now, Holden knew his job was to find Luke.

He stepped into the barn, eyes roaming the stalls and finding Luke’s horse, Skywalker, in the last stall. His large brown eyes were staring at him, full of questions to which Holden had no answer. Quietly, Holden moved closer to the horse, stopping to pull out some oats from one of the nearby bags. When he reached Skywalker, he held his hand out, waiting to see if he was accepting.

When he had found Skywalker on a trip years ago, he had known that he was meant for Luke. Something in the equine’s eyes had reminded him of his son. Intelligence, strength and just a glint of mischief. He had been difficult to acquire and once he had been, Holden had learned the horse had something else in common with Luke.

He was stubborn. Refused to be bridled, fought Holden and the ranch hands, when they tried to load him in the trailer. He had kicked and bit, hurting Holden and one of the hands before they managed to get him settled. It was no easier when Holden got him home. It was days before he would let Holden anywhere near him.

Holden had thought that it had been a bad idea to buy him. If he couldn’t handle the horse, Luke wouldn’t be able to go near him.

Except that, he did.

When Skywalker and Luke saw each other, it was kismet. At least, that’s what his Mama had said at the time. Luke had approached the horse, climbed onto a small stool near the stall, and he did not hesitate; he had wrapped chubby hands around the horse’s neck. Holden had moved forward, ready to pull his son away before he got hurt but froze when the horse simply whinnied once, sniffed and then ducked its large head down.

That had been it. His son and Skywalker had formed a bond and nothing had managed to break it.

Holden felt Skywalker’s nose on his hand and he opened it, letting the horse eat from it. His free hand stroked the long mane, patting softly as he did. “I know you miss him, boy. We all do.” He choked back on the grief that was just at the surface. “I’m sorry I haven’t found him for you. I’m so sorry.” It bubbled over and Holden buried his face in the horse’s neck, taking its warmth and comfort.

It was then he heard a noise and pulled away, wiping at the tears that had escaped. When he looked, he found Parker standing at the other end of bar, looking lost and scared.

Hal’s death had left him bereft and nothing Carly or Jack had done was working in helping Parker. He remembered now that his mother had suggested Parker spend more time at the farm, helping with the horses. It was her way of giving the kid the space that he needed.

“I didn’t know you were here, Parker.”

“I’m - I didn’t - I’m sorry.” He stuttered over the words, shifting his gaze everywhere but at Holden, hunching in his shoulders.

“It’s okay. I’m glad that you’re here.” He smiled, his cheeks aching from the use of the muscles. He had not done that in a long time. “Mama told me you were helping out. Thank you.”

Parker nodded, turning to walk away but paused and looked back at Holden.

“Don’t give up.”

Holden stared at Parker, shaking his head just a little. “What?”

Parker faced Holden, shrugged, his head turned away. “Don’t give up. About Luke. You’ll find him.”

He sounded so sure that Holden almost believed him. He wanted to believe him. Because in that moment, he had no more fight or hope left. “I hope so, Parker.”

Parker nodded his head, making a point doing so. “You will. When Lily wakes up, you’ll be able to find him.”

Holden heart ached at that. Lily. He closed his eyes. His beautiful Lily, lost to him in darkness. His son, lost to him as well. He glanced at the young boy across the barn and nodded. “That’s what I keep wishing.”

“It’ll happen.”

Then he was gone, leaving Holden staring at his retreating back in the fading daylight.



Part Four



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