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Luke figures it was a matter of time. His pain episodes, afterall, are completely random, striking at any time of the day without any warning whatsoever. Doctors in the past have mentioned that stress might trigger the episodes, so he always made sure to keep a cool head whenever other people were around. But maybe stress had nothing to do with it. Maybe Luke was just getting lucky. And the thing about luck is that, in time, it runs out.
It’s a bad one, he realizes immediately. Normally, he’d be fine with that. Sure, it feels like he’s being repeatedly stabbed all over his body, but he’s dealt with it before, it’s old news to him. The thing is, though, that he’s not riding this episode out alone in his apartment. He’s writhing in pain on the floor of the NXX meeting room.
Past the incessant waves of constant pain, his mind fills with panic. He’s alone, he came here early for once, but he's not early by a huge margin. Anybody could walk in at any time, and he can’t let that happen, he can’t let anybody see, can’t let anybody know. Deliriously, he searches for his duffel bag, the pain muddling his mind and blurring his vision. He just needs to get to his meds, and then everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.
The front door swings open.
Fuck.
“Not like you to be early, Luke.” Marius calls out. “Luke?”
Footsteps. Closer and closer. Luke can’t find his bag.
“Huh,” Marius speaks again, softer, more a mutter to himself. “Could’ve sworn that was his motorcycle parked outside.”
Another wave of pain, and Luke can’t bite back the agonized gasp.
“Luke? Where are y—Luke!?”
This can’t be happening. It can’t but it is. Marius sees him. Marius rushes over to where Luke is prone, his hands moving around in starts and stops, unsure what to do. This can’t be happening, but it is, so Luke has to shift tactics from prevention to damage control.
Marius’ eyes are filled with uncharacteristic panic, his words quick and alarmed. “Luke, what’s happening—I’m calling an ambulance, I—”
“No ambulance. I need—Bag,” Luke gasps out. “Inner pocket, pill organizer.”
Marius doesn’t waste a second, immediately locating Luke’s bag and rummaging through its contents. He gets the pill organizer tapping one tablet out, hurriedly handing it to Luke. Luke’s hand is trembling fiercely, but thankfully he manages to down the pill, dry swallowing easily. He shuts his eyes and waits through the horrible minutes as they tick by. He breathes in and out, focusing on nothing but keeping himself conscious as the medicine takes effect. And it does. Slowly but surely, the pain in his body melts away from agony into a dull, throbbing numbness.
Once his breathing is normal again, he opens his eyes.
And reality comes crashing back in.
“Are you okay?” Marius asks. He’s still crouched on the floor next to Luke. Probably has been for the past fifteen minutes.
“I’m fine.” Luke gets up gingerly, stopping Marius when stands and moves to help him. He can’t look at Marius when he says, “Thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem, but—” Marius says. His voice is oddly soft; devoid of the usual fire that always paints his words. “—what the hell was that?”
Luke waves a dismissive hand, “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” And there’s the fire, now, back and incredulous. Luke bites the bullet and looks at Marius and in his eyes, a mix of stress and anger. “I came in here and you looked like you were dying—”
“It’s nothing, okay? Let it go,” Luke says sharply.
Marius stares at him, silent for a moment.
Then, he raises his hand. In it, Luke’s pill organizer.
“These are opioids,” Marius says, shaking the organizer.
Luke stiffens. “How—”
“They kicked in under ten minutes,” Marius frowns, handing the pill organizer back to Luke. He crosses his arms. “Other pain relievers can be faster, sure, but the shit you were going through didn’t look like something an over-the-counter NSAID could hack. If you’re on painkillers this strong, whatever is wrong with you is bad.”
Luke grits his teeth, “It doesn’t matter, alright? I don’t let it get in the way of my work.”
“Is that why you think I’m pushing? Luke, jesus, I’m worried—”
“Drop it,,” Luke hisses, getting into Marius’ space. “And don’t you dare tell anybody.”
“Why is it a secret?” Marius gives as much as he gets, not shying away from Luke at all.
“It just is, okay? I really am grateful that you helped me, but you need to forget this ever happened and keep it to yourself and—”
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Marius says slowly, slipping a knife of pain into Luke’s chest. “Ria doesn’t know.”
“She doesn’t,” Luke looks Marius in the eye, mustering every ounce of intimidation he possibly can. With an empty, unforgiving voice, he says, “And she won’t. Because you’re not going to say a word.”
It’s a bluff, though. Luke isn’t threatening Marius. For one thing, he doesn’t want to, Marius is his friend. Past that, Luke doesn’t have anything to threaten Marius with. It’s a bluff, and Marius can see it, because he doesn’t look cowed at all.
But then Marius sighs, as if the fight is leaving his body.
“I won’t tell her. It’s not like you gave me any actual answers anyway,” There’s an ounce of hurt in his words, another stab of pain Luke needs to learn to live with. Then Marius says, “But more importantly, I won’t tell her because—because that’s on you, Luke.”
Luke takes a step back, chest feeling tight, but before he can reply, the sound of the front door opening makes him jolt. With quick, frantic movements, he stuffs his pill organizer deep into his duffel bag and pulls out his personal tablet, reviewing files.
Marius takes the hint and doesn’t say anything about what he saw when the rest of the team arrive. Luke believes Marius will keep his word, but still, in his gut, there is a dark, churning dread.
-
(The next time Luke heads over to the pharmacy to pick up his prescription, the pharmacist informs him that this and all future refills have been paid for.
“Paid for?” Luke’s eyebrows furrow. “By who?”
The pharmacist looks confused. “By your health insurance, sir. Says here that you’re now a beneficiary of PaxCare Plus. Your medication is covered by your plan.”
“Right,” Luke sighs.
Meddlesome bastard…)
-
Aaron schedules Luke for an EEG, as if Luke hasn’t already had countless inconclusive EEGs in the past. However stubborn Luke is, though, Aaron is just one rung higher up the ladder of obstinacy. It’s probably why the NSB partnered them, honestly. Nobody can get Luke to do anything except for Aaron, so Luke admits defeat and heads over to the hospital for yet another useless procedure.
The first time he got an EEG, he was a bit antsy. He had logically known that the procedure was painless, but the thought of having his neural activity monitored put him on edge, for some reason. Now though, familiar with the motions, he doesn’t even blink as the nurse applies the adhesive gel to his scalp, as she presses the many electrodes all over his skull. He’s led into the observation room and he quietly lays down on the cot, following the soft orders of the attending nurse. He shuts his eyes when told. He breathes deeply when told. He does what he has to do.
“You have to go to sleep now, sir.”
This is always the hardest part.
“Would you like a sedative?” The nurse asks gently after maybe ten minutes have passed with Luke unable to relax. “If you’re having trouble sleeping, we can—”
“No, it’s alright,” Luke sighs. “Sorry, I—I can do this.”
He slows his breathing and counts in his head, willing the waves of sleep to pull him down into the dark.
And then the nightmares begin.
And he’d rather not think about that at all.
The nurse wakes him up thirty minutes later, carefully removing all the electrodes. Luke thanks her and he makes his way to the bathroom. As he showers, he scrubs the adhesive gel off of his scalp with more vigor than is necessary. Once he’s dressed and dry, he goes to the front desk and the receptionist tells him that the EEG results will be sent to Aaron by tomorrow. Luke nods, making his way to the exit.
“Wait, Mr. Pearce! Dr. Yishmir told us that he’d like you to wait here for him and—”
“I can talk to him tomorrow,” Luke says politely, clenching his fist in his jacket pocket. “Thank you.”
Of course, the universe or fate or whatever doesn’t make it so easy for him. The moment Luke exits the neurology center, somebody sitting on the waiting room chairs in the outside hall lifts his head from his personal tablet and blinks at Luke.
“Luke,” Artem greets him with a nod.
“Ah, Artem, hey,” Luke says, tamping down on the anxiety in his chest.
“Wh—”
“What brings you here?” Luke beats him to the punch.
“I have an eye exam.” Artem simply points to the double doors a few feet away, the entrance to the hospital’s ophthalmology center. Luke vaguely remembers that Artem wears contacts, but Luke doesn’t get much time to dwell on it, because Artem looks past Luke, looks at where Luke just came from. “Neurology center?”
“Just the usual check up,” Luke smiles easily. It’s a pathetic excuse though, and Artem knows it. Before Artem can push, Luke changes the subject, saying the first thing on his mind. “How is Ria doing? At work, I mean.”
Artem’s face visibly softens with fondness, and Luke can relate. “Well, she’s constantly overworking herself, as usual. Has she always been like this?”
“Yeah,” Luke breathes a soft laugh, the warmth blooming in his chest being the first sincere thing he’s felt today. “She’s driven as hell. It's kind of impossible to stop her from doing what she thinks she has to do. Somebody’s gotta let her know, from time to time, that she doesn’t have to do every single thing in the world. Doesn’t have to win every single battle.” Unbidden, a pang of sadness drips into his heart. The warmth is gone now, replaced by a terrible chill.
“Luke?”
Luke shakes his head, clenching his fist tighter in his jacket pocket. When he looks at Artem again, Luke has a smile plastered on his face. “You better take care of her, got it?”
Artem looks taken aback. “What—”
“You’re her partner,” Luke says. “Make sure she doesn’t work herself into the ground. Promise you’ll look after her.”
Artem looks vaguely alarmed now. “Of course, but—”
“Humor me here, Artem,” Luke interrupts him. “Promise.”
Artem is silent for a second, but when he speaks, it’s with conviction. “I promise.”
“Mr. Wing?” Artem turns to who is calling him. A nurse has her head poked out of the double doors of the ophthalmology center, calling through the hallway. When she catches sight of Artem seated at the chairs, she says to him, “The doctor’s ready to see you now.”
Luke uses that moment to slip away before Artem can say anything. As he walks away, the sadness in his heart doesn’t dissipate. Instead, it pumps from his heart into his bloodstream, drowning his body in coldness.
-
(When Artem finishes his eye exam, he exits the ophthalmology center and he’s on his way to leave the hospital. He stops short though, because the moment he’s out the door, he sees a man exiting the neurology center, muttering to himself.
“Luke, you slimy brat,” The man grumbles. “I told you to wait for me.”
Artem isn’t usually one to pry into other people’s business, but the worrisome way Luke had spoke earlier pushes Artem to ask.
“Excuse me, but,” Artem catches the attention of the man. “Luke as in Luke Pearce?”
“Yeah,” The man blinks, slightly surprised. “You know him?”
“He’s a work friend, yes,” Artem says. He extends his hand politely. “Artem Wing.”
The man smiles as he takes Artem’s hand for a shake. “Dr. Aaron Yishmir. I’m Luke’s attending physician.”
“He’s—” Artem says, putting what little evidence he has to some kind of conjecture. “—he’s sick, isn’t he?”
Aaron sighs, his smile turning rueful. “Times like these I kind of hate the doctor-patient confidentiality thing.”
Artem realizes his misstep. “Right, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No worries, I just…” Aaron shakes his head. “...I just wish Luke would see how many people are on his side.”)
-
Vyn’s house sets Luke on edge. He supposes that in the morning, it must look quite charming, what with the classic white picket fence style it’s got going on. But right now under the moonlight, the house looks oddly eerie. A facsimile of a home, an offshoot painted with shadows.
The smart door automatically opens when Luke knocks so he lets himself inside. There, in the living room, Vyn sits on his sofa, sipping tea from an ornate teacup.
“Good evening, Luke,” Vyn sets the cup down, greeting him politely.
“Yeah, evening. Thanks for meeting me,” Luke says, carefully taking a seat across from Vyn. His chest is tight. He’s here for a reason, and he needs to play his cards right if he’s going to get what he wants. “It’s late, so I’ll cut to the chase, Vyn. I need you to give me a psych evaluation. The NSB asks for psych evals every once in a while, it’s just a routine kind of thing.”
“I assumed as much from your text,” Vyn says, his voice the perfect kind of serene that raises Luke’s hackles. He hums inquisitively, looking at Luke with a sharp gaze. “I am curious though, as to why you want the evaluation from me, specifically. Surely, the NSB has their own affiliate doctors for this very purpose.”
Right, so we’re getting straight to the point, then.
“It has to be you,” Luke says. “Because you’re going to give me a clean bill.”
Vyn smiles, as if that was exactly what he wanted to hear. “It would look quite bad indeed if you threatened an NSB doctor.”
“I wasn’t planning on threatening you,” Luke crosses his arms, looking away. “I was planning on offering you a favor. You do this for me, and I’ll owe you one.”
A favor from an agent of his calibre is a valuable bargaining chip. Luke knows this. And he knows Vyn knows this as well.
Vyn hums, “As tempting as that is, I have something else in mind, for payment,”
The words send a shiver of anxiety down Luke’s spine. “What do you want, then?”
“Answers.”
Luke frowns. “Answers?”
“I’m a curious person,” Vyn says easily. “I like knowing things. Answer all my questions honestly and I’ll give you your perfect psych eval.”
Luke is in a corner here, so he has no choice but to agree. “What do you want to know?”
“You seem worried that you can’t get a clean bill of mental health the regular way,” Vyn says, his golden eyes watching Luke the entire time. “You think you have a mental health issue that would push the NSB to bench you?”
“It’s just a precaution,” Luke grits his teeth, stopping himself from exhibiting any tells.
“Quite the extreme precaution,” Vyn laughs softly. “Tell me about your illness.”
Luke stiffens. “What—”
“The one you’re keeping from everybody,” Vyn clarifies and Luke’s heart drops. “You hide it quite well, I’ll give you that, but in general it’s hard to hide things like this from somebody trained to see behavioral abnormalities. Your cold comments on the NXX files, your effective if reckless actions, your constant tendency to put everybody else’s lives above your own,” Vyn counts off on his fingers. “Whatever you have, it’s serious enough to cause a deep anger inside of you in addition to a casual disregard for your life.”
Luke is silent. Vaguely, he feels like he’s drowning.
Vyn’s gaze softens ever so slightly, “Is it terminal?”
That shakes Luke out of his thoughts. He barks out a humorless laugh.
“Yeah,” Luke shakes his head. “Three years left.”
“But the NSB didn’t bench you for it.”
“They know I can be useful in the meantime.”
“But they would definitely bench you for the depression, wouldn’t they?”
“I’m not depressed,” Luke scowls. “Like you said, it’s the illness.”
“Terminal illness and depression aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, there’s quite a strong link between physical conditions and mental health.” Vyn leans forward. “That’s why you needed the psych evaluation to come from me. You know you have it, you know you wouldn’t be able to trick a doctor, so you came to me, the only one you could bribe.”
“Are you finished with your questions, Vyn?” Luke grits out. “Because it seems like you knew everything from the beginning.”
“I didn’t,” Vyn says diplomatically. “I had my suspicions, but those are always uncertain until confirmed.”
Luke sighs, dragging his hands down his face.
“You do know that depression is treatable,” Vyn says.
“It’s not like treating it will do me any good,” Luke says softly. “I’ve only got three years left.”
“That’s three years left to be happy, but...” Vyn looks at Luke, and in his gaze, there is something like sympathy, something like care, but Luke can’t give a damn about that when Vyn rips him apart with his next words. “...but you don’t think you deserve it, do you?”
“Vyn—”
“Why are you punishing yourself?”
And Luke doesn’t know why he tells the truth. Maybe it’s because he wants to make the sentiment real, because if it’s real, then he can finally, finally commit to it.
Defeated, Luke says, “Because I’m going to hurt her. One way or another, I’m going to hurt her, with this, and that’s unforgivable.” Luke looks down, not able to look Vyn in the eye. “I need all the penance I can get.”
The living room is deathly silent for a few moments. The only thing Luke can hear is the terrible pulse of his own heart, broken and pained.
Luke’s phone pings. He reaches into his pocket and fishes it out to see that Vyn has emailed him a clean bill of mental health.
He leaves Vyn’s house after that without another word.
-
(Vyn retires to his study, holding his recorder in his hand. Strangely, the words don’t come to him as easily as they usually do.
He wouldn’t go so far to assume that Luke sees him as a friend; the man had always been wary of Vyn, no matter how polite he was about it. However, Vyn does care deeply for Ria, and it’s undeniable that Luke is important to her. He presses the button of the recorder.
“Never did I think that I would fall victim to actions caused by volatile emotion,” Vyn says out loud. “But maybe it was foolish of me to think myself immune to the human condition.”
He sets the recorder down. Between Luke’s martyr complex and Ria’s right to know the truth, it’s supposedly an easy decision for Vyn to make, to sell Luke out.
But then, he falters.
With a shake of his head, he presses the button of the recorder once more.
“Well, immune or not,” Vyn says thoughtfully. “I have enough mind to know this isn’t my choice to make. It’s up to him, now. Whatever the outcome, it’s his responsibility.)
-
In the end, it happens because of every reason.
His luck runs out. There are only so many pathetic excuses he can think up of on the spot before Ria eventually became suspicious. She’d pushed and pushed, and when Luke didn’t budge, she had wondered out loud if he was still somebody she even knew.
Fate isn’t on his side. He tried so hard to keep everything under wraps, but Ria is the smartest person he’s ever encountered in his life. She never backs down, she works until she finds the truth, she finds the battle and wins.
He’s pushed into a corner with no way out, no choice but to give things he doesn’t want to give. Ria visits him one night, and the look she has in her eyes says everything. She’s figured it out. She knows. And Luke has failed.
“When were you planning on telling me,” Ria says, her voice empty and cold.
Luke wants to lie, but his voice catches in his throat. He’s lied so much to her already.
His silence is a clearer answer than any of his words could have ever been.
“I can’t believe you,” Ria breathes incredulously. She walks into his space, looking up at him with a fiery gaze; upset, betrayed, destroyed. “You were really just planning to die without letting me know?”
“I can leave,” Luke tells her softly. No more prevention, it’s time for damage control. “That was my plan, to leave the city before it happened. So you won’t have to watch me—”
“Oh my god, Luke, are you listening to yourself right now?” Ria exclaims. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “In what world do you think leaving is going to make me happy?”
“It’s better than if I stay!” Luke raises his voice helplessly. This can’t be happening, but it is. “Everything I’ve ever done about this, it was to protect you, it was for your own good.”
Ria looks at him with disbelief in her gaze, before it melts and hardens into fury. “Don’t you think I should get a say in what’s good for me or not? At what point did you decide that you knew what was best for my life, for my feelings?”
“And how are your feelings doing right now, huh?” Luke barks out a jagged laugh. Unbidden, a pang of sadness floods into his heart. Inside of him, a terrible chill. “I was right, to keep it from you, because now that you know, you’re hurting—”
“So let me hurt, Luke!” And the tears finally fall. Ria breathes heavily as she cries, and Luke’s heart is breaking into a million pieces, but he doesn’t even notice, because he knows that Ria’s heart is breaking too. “Let me hurt because the person I’m in love with is in pain.”
And just like that, Luke’s world crumbles before his eyes.
In another life, perhaps, this would have been the beautiful scene. This would have been where the music swells and the camera moves in and Luke confesses back.
But this isn’t that life. This is Luke’s life, and he’s known for quite some time now that the ending isn’t pretty.
So he doesn’t say the words in his heart.
He says the words that will end this and save her from him once and for all.
“You shouldn’t,” Luke says as gently as he can. He feels detached from his body, his soul, his heart, but he pushes on forward, because this needs to be done. Because he needs all the penance he can get. “You shouldn’t love me. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can still be happy.”
The pain in Ria’s eyes hurts him more than anything else in the whole world.
Luke moves to leave, sure that he’s done the needed damage, but he’s caught off guard when Ria rushes to embrace him. She holds onto him so tight, as if she believes that maybe that can change things, and Luke doesn’t know what to do.
“Stay,” Ria says, her voice hoarse, her words pleading, her heart on her sleeve, shattered to bits. “For once in your life, Luke, just. Stay.”
So he does.
Just this once.
One last time.
-
(“The sand falls slowly from the top
We've used up every single drop.
Do we realize what we've done
That shadows that we've overrun.
And I feel my past regrets
Slipping into present tense.”)