Autonomy: Chapter 8 (original) (raw)

Title: Autonomy (Chapter 8)
Rating: PG-13
Date written: 28 Dec., 18 Feb. 2008
Request/Suggestion: none, my own invention
Other information: Story remains cannon with the ATWT show until around July/August when I started writing. It’s set in the future, and it’s a series. Thanks to Stephanie for beta-ing this! I appreciate all your efforts for me, and all the edits we go through in this ‘journey’ we take together. (o:
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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"Hey, Case, I didn't expect you out here today. To what do I owe this surprise?" Luke smiled as he stood holding the screen door open to the farmhouse porch. It was a warm summer day, exactly the kind of day that should be spent outside, which was what Luke had in mind after enjoying a long morning in bed. He thought with all the studying he had done the previous semester, he deserved a few days to sleep in late.

Since he was the only jobless person in his social circle, he had figured everyone else would be at work for the day. He had vague plans to welcome the summer season by puttering around the farm, talking to horses, taking a dive in the pond and eventually getting the tractor out to tinker with the loud idle that they had never got around to fixing the summer before.

He hadn’t supposed he would see Casey until evening, at least.

"Uh, I just thought I'd swing by," Casey said, smiling as he shrugged one shoulder. The smile, however, seemed uncertain and his eyes darted about, as if something was bothering him. Luke had no idea what it could be.

"Well, what's up?" Luke asked, moving just outside the porch when he noticed Casey stalling to come inside.

"I...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Luke blinked, ducking his head back in surprise. "Sorry? For what?" he asked.

"Well, for my birthday night. And the alcohol, and everything we had to drink, and –"

"Has Aaron been on your case again?" Luke asked, frowning in irritation.

"N-no. Well, yes," Casey laughed, "but with reason. I mean, he has a point. I know you shouldn't be drinking but I didn't really think about how bad it could be, you know, and I was an idiot to let it get so out of hand." He shifted his feet, a movement that seemed out of place on him.

"I can make my own decisions." Luke shook his head in mild irritation, his brow furrowed, and looked away.

"I know, of course you can. But...we're friends. And I talked you into doing something stupid and really unhealthy for you. Something that could get you killed –"

"Relax,” Luke broke in.

"No," Casey said more sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet Luke's. "Drinking even a little could kill you, and we practically drank the whole bar! What if something had happened? What if it had killed you? God, I think I'd kill myself if I let that happen! And I wasn't just letting it happen, I was making it happen!"

"Stop being so melodramatic about all this…" Luke pleaded.

"Well, it's serious. You're my best friend, Luke. And I was a complete moron, and we always have a lot of fun together without all that alcohol, so it was really stupid… And…I just wanted to say sorry. And that it'll never happen again." He sounded like a child promising his parent good behavior after being naughty. For some reason, Luke resented it.

"Isn't that my choice?" Luke shot back. He appreciated Casey's concern, but they were grown men, and he didn’t need anyone making his decisions for him.

"Of course. But as your friend, and someone who really cares about you…er, you know, I don't want anything bad to happen to you, man… I-I'd do anything to avoid it."

Luke was mildly amused at Casey’s ungraceful trip over the mention of caring about each other in their friendship. They didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff. He looked at Casey uncertainly then, confused about why this seemed so urgent to him. Luke hadn't experienced any health problems since their stupid drinking binge, and he certainly didn't have any plans to repeat the activity any time soon.

It reminded him of those months in the wheelchair, years ago, being fussed over as if he were some kind of invalid.

“It’s done, Case. It’s not like it’s our weekly habit or anything,” Luke replied, looking away from Casey and instead toward the trees in the distance, behind the barn.

“But what if –”

“Stop!” Luke argued, turning to glare at him. “I already have a mom, thanks!”

Casey let out a growl of frustration. “You’re driving me nuts, Snyder!”

“Yeah, well, so are you. Can we drop this subject yet? I really think I understand it quite well.”

“Fine,” Casey huffed. “I just wanted to say –”

“Please don’t.” Luke spoke sharply and held up his hand to stop him.

Casey looked disappointed and again Luke had to wonder why it was so important. Casey was the most laid-back, easy going guy Luke knew. He had said he was sorry, and they could move on. They didn’t need a discussion about it.

Fortunately for Luke, Casey did finally let it go. He explained that he had the day off from work, until his evening shift at Java. He asked Luke what his plans were and then decided to tag along and join in on the farm work.

As they dragged the tractor out of its shed and Luke began to tinker with its engine, he couldn’t help being puzzled over Casey’s concern and adamancy regarding the drinking issue. He supposed Aaron must have really given him a scare – or a guilt trip – or both. But Luke didn’t need someone mothering him. He wasn’t anyone’s responsibility. Though he supposed maybe he wasn't very good at showing an appropriate level of concern for his own health and needs.

Maybe he did need some help with it. Sometimes. Maybe he had had help in the past, and had never realized it.

When Luke got too quiet and contemplative, Casey started horsing around. After nearly two hours, Luke got the idle on the motor fixed, no thanks to Casey who had abandoned him to chop some wood – despite the fact that it was summer and they didn’t need any wood chopped. Luke thought he just needed something to do, something with his hands, since he hadn’t been much help to Luke with the tractor.

Then, late in the afternoon, they abandoned the chores for the Snyder Farm pond.

“This place is so awesome!” Casey said as they came through the small cove of trees and into the clearing where the pond was. His towel was thrown over his shoulder, his shirt long since left behind at the farm.

Behind him Luke laughed at his Rock*Star swim trunks. The word was printed several times in diagonals across the water-resistant material, accompanied by some retro prints of guitars and drums. Luke liked the shorts and found himself distracted, forgetting to hold up his side of the conversation.

Casey didn’t seem to mind, though, as he went right on talking.

“I can see why you use it to snag all your boyfriends,” Casey laughed, his jest jerking Luke back on track.

“What?!” Luke squeaked.

Casey laughed harder and Luke felt his face warming up.

“Tell me you didn’t bring Noah out here,” Casey dared.

Luke scowled at him.

“And what was that one guy’s name? The one who went off with his cousin to Nebraska, of all places?” Casey asked, sounding so much like a smart-aleck that Luke felt a sudden urge to smack him.

“I think he’s better forgotten,” Luke said, glaring.

“All right, all right, Snyder, I’ll choose a better memory.” Casey was smiling, obviously pleased with himself. “Remember when our classes came out here when we were kids? And we had that eighth grade bar-b-q? Those were the days, huh?”

Casey’s good humor continued as he walked toward one of the trees to hang his towel.

“I forgot you came to that!” Luke answered, following Casey over to the very old and dear tree. The Snyder kids had grown up playing on the tree, jumping or swinging from it into the pond. It had one large branch that hung out over the grass at about navel-height, which was perfect for perching on, or for hanging up towels and clothes.

“Are you kidding? Rebecca Merchant was there,” Casey said mock-dreamily.

Luke burst out in laughter.

“Oh, come on, Snyder! Who did you have the hots for in eighth grade?” Casey teased back, shoving Luke lightly on his shoulder. He, too, had left his shirt at the farm, prepared with only the essentials – trunks and a towel. He turned to look at his own shoulder in curiosity as he felt his skin tingling with warmth from where Casey’s fingers had been. He watched the imprints vanish from his flesh before replying.

“No one!” Luke chided.

“Wait a second, wasn’t….”

“No!” Luke interrupted, feeling as though he knew what Casey was about to say before he even formed the words. Somehow he could see the wheels turning in his head, and Luke tried unsuccessfully to intercept him.

“You liked Kevin ‘what’s-his-name’ all the way back then!” Casey accused with amusement.

“We were _friends!_” Luke argued.

“Luke, it was puberty,” he replied, clearly disbelieving him.

“Oh, yeah, you would know. Who was it that was found kissing all the girls behind the old cherry tree?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

“That was not my idea!”

“And which girl absolutely refused to kiss you?” He felt smug, but Luke thought he had a right to be, at least this once. They squared off between the tree and the pond, Casey visibly floundering for a way to defend himself.

“She was playing hard to get!” he insisted.

“That’s right, it was Rebecca Merchant, the most sought after girl in the eighth grade!”

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing with women,” Casey said in what Luke thought was the beginning an amusing attempt to defend himself. “They play these games. See, you wouldn’t know, because guys don’t do that. It’s the mysterious world of women.”

“How would you know if guys played games?” Luke asked, entertained with the turn of the discussion.

“I’m a guy!”

Luke stepped back and uncrossed his arms, setting a hand to the branch of the tree.

“A guy who has relationships with girls, not with other guys. I’ve got enough sisters to know the games girls play, but some guys aren’t any different.”

“Yeah, well, I still say guys are much more straightforward about what it is they want.” Casey seemed resolute, and Luke got the distinct impression that he didn’t want to lose this argument, though he wasn’t sure why.

“What is it that they want?” Luke asked, curious to know exactly how Casey would answer.

“Well,” Casey replied, his brow furrowing as he seemed to back-pedal. He shifted on his feet before looking up to answer. “You know.”

“Maybe I don’t. I’d like you to enlighten me on this matter, Case.” Luke smiled, amused. “Because, it sounds like you’re implying that all men are after sex when it comes to romantic relationships, unless there’s something else you think that guys want.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Casey responded, his hands going into the air to help make his defense. “I mean, sure, guys want that. But there’s all that other stuff, too.”

“Other stuff?” Luke grinned, knowing he was being cheeky but liking it anyway.

“You know, like someone you can trust, who’ll support you, who you can be yourself with and let your guard down. Who loves you just because you’re you, including your faults and not just in spite of them. I mean, we just want to find that. And then, yeah, we want sex.”

His laugh seemed nervous but Luke was impressed that he’d said all that without faltering much or blushing.

“And girls don’t want that?” Luke asked, quirking his eyebrow.

“They do, but some of them do these weird things to go about getting it, or to find out if what they have is really real. Instead of just, you know, being straightforward about it.”

“And you’re always up front about exactly what you’re thinking and feeling?’ Luke challenged. “You’ve never played a single game or used some of kind of cryptic method to go about securing love or romance?”

“Well,” Casey stepped back, “so, I’m not faultless, but I try not to.”

“The point is, it’s not all that different. Okay, maybe compared to girls, we as guys think that men are more straightforward, easier to figure out. But then again, we’re guys and we think like guys. But the game playing – that comes with both genders. We all want the same thing, don’t we? We just don’t always know how to go about finding it. Or getting it.”

The summer heat around the pond was quiet for a moment, as each man thought about the words hanging in the air. Luke had mostly been thinking out loud in his responses to Casey, as he hadn’t really thought about the subject that deeply before, but his words seemed to be true enough.

“I guess,” Casey conceded, shrugging slowly. He stepped back from the tree and squared his shoulders, catching Luke’s eye and smirking. “Now, are we going swimming in the pond, or just watching it stagnate?”

“It doesn’t stagnate!” Luke replied indignantly.

“Relax, Snyder,” Casey chuckled. “Hey, how deep is it?”

“In the middle, ah, about six feet, I guess.”

“Great!” Casey cheered and without skipping a beat, he turned and ran full force towards the bank, launching himself in a gigantic leap that landed him in a cannon ball in the middle of the pond.

He resurfaced yelping while Luke broke into hysterics, listening to Casey’s curses about how frigid the pond water was.

“That’s the point of swimming on a hot day, you nimrod!” Luke yelled before jumping into the cold pond himself.

..:..

A couple hours later the boys climbed out of the water for what they claimed would be the last time, even though they hadn’t yet been successful at staying away from the pond. Each time one of them got out, the other would shove him back in, or else the hot sun overhead would eventually drive them diving back into the cool water.

Casey grabbed his towel from the tree, rubbing it over his arms, shoulders and chest as he whipped his head around, slinging pond water everywhere with his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” Luke warned, reaching around him for his own towel.

Casey made a taunting face and Luke rolled his eyes.

“We should do this every day,” Casey said, patting the towel over his skin and then running it roughly over his hair. Its blond tips stuck up in every direction, a few drops of water still clinging to them.

“Yeah, if only you didn’t have to work,” Luke replied, wandering over to the soft grass nearby.

“Don’t remind me,” Casey groaned as he followed Luke. They laid their towels out on the grass and sprawled out to give their bodies a chance to dry in the warm sun and cool breeze. Casey promptly lay on his back, his eyes closed against the overbearing sunshine.

Luke leaned back on his elbows, gazing across the pond and glancing over at Casey a few times. He looked so relaxed, and he wished that Casey didn’t have to leave for work. They could lay in the sun for an hour, and then start up the grill and have an impromptu cookout. He could invite his sisters over, and the day would be the epitome of what a perfect summer day was meant to be. Instead, the afternoon was waning and inevitably Casey would have to leave. It was nice, though, just hanging out. Spending their days together, being stupid or crazy, or random.

After several minutes, Luke let himself lay back too, his skin warming as the water began to evaporate. It was too bright to look at the sky, but he liked barely cracking his eyelids open and watching some of the leaves moving in the tree branches over head. They were just far enough away not to block the sun. Swimming always left him feeling so relaxed and content that he had to will himself not to fall asleep afterward. They would wind up burnt to a crisp if he did, and Casey would be late to work, which wasn’t something either of them would want.

Luke sighed and twitched his shoulders, trying to relax without falling asleep.

He smiled as he thought about their fight in the pond earlier. Perhaps water-wrestling could be a new sport. Or speed-dunking. For a minute Luke thought he might have drowned Casey with one too many dunks under the surface, but the match continued on, Casey never one to give up.

His mind continued to drift off, until Luke thought he might have dozed for a few minutes and mentally commanded himself not to do it again. Then, unexpectedly, something shadowed over Luke. Even without opening his eyes, Luke could sense it. Something was blocking the sun from reaching his closed eyelids.

He thought maybe it was one of the trees, supposing that the sun was going down and finally the leaves were beginning to interfere. Or perhaps clouds were coming in, obstructing the sunshine that was bringing the warm golden tan to their skin. Luke waited for the shadow to go away but it didn’t. Slowly he cracked an eye open, curious to see if he could spot the culprit.

“What’re you doing?” Luke asked, startled, as he automatically shoved Casey away.

“I…I…” he stuttered.

Luke slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, staring in alarm at Casey, who was looking away across the pond and digging at the edge of one of his fingernails.

“I was just… There was…” Casey cleared his throat.

“What’s your deal?” Luke asked, still staring at Casey and waiting for an explanation.

“Nothing,” Casey said with a nervous chuckle.

Luke watched him suspiciously.

“What?” Casey asked innocently, a smirk growing on his face.

“I think you ought to tell me _‘what,’_” Luke replied, confusion turning into irritation.

“Oh, come on!” Casey laughed.

Luke just stared at him because he wasn’t sure what else to do. He couldn’t shake the image out of his mind – Casey hovering over him, shirtless, hair still damp, his eyes intent, his lower lip shiny from the water or maybe the sun – Luke wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure about was that he felt very wrong.

“Case…”

“It’s the magic of the pond, Snyder,” Casey said in mock-seriousness.

Luke frowned. Casey was a jokester, and he usually made Luke laugh. But it wasn’t working this time.

“Aw, come on. Don’t pout,” Casey cooed, rubbing his hand along Luke’s shoulder. “Better luck next time.”

Luke smacked Casey’s hand away, glaring, and Casey seemed surprised by the action.

“I don’t get you, today,” Luke said sharply, staring into Casey’s eyes. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Wha-a-t?” Casey asked, in a defensive, innocent tone.

“A few seconds more and you would have been practically on top of me,” Luke accused.

Casey laughed in dismissal, “You wish!”

Frustrated, Luke stood to his feet. Casey watched him.

“I thought you weren’t gay,” Luke growled, casting a sharp glare at Casey.

Casey blinked at him with an unreadable expression. Luke shook his head once, snatched up his towel and stalked off, away from the pond.

“Luke!” Casey called after him.

Luke ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to play games, and he didn’t understand Casey’s behavior. Instead, he felt unreasonably angry, and didn’t know what else to do other than to extricate himself from the situation. Luke had never thought himself a fool. He had always been pretty good at reading people and situations. Luke had had a crush on Kevin, but had known the guy was straight all along. With Noah, it seemed Luke had known he was gay far before Noah had ever allowed himself to even consider it. Casey was another done deal – no question.

So, whatever these jokes were, they felt mocking and insulting.

Luke stomped further away from the pond, taking the long way back to the farmhouse on the path that wove through the woods and around the backside of the barn. He had thought he and Casey were growing to be really close friends. Best friends. Family. Like brothers. He’d always thought Casey was funny, even when he would tease Luke.

But it was getting out of hand. He felt like a laughingstock. It hurt.

And that frustrated him, because they were friends and nothing was supposed to come between them. Luke wasn’t supposed to get his feelings hurt over stupid, silly things.

He sighed harshly and shoved a hand through his half-dry hair.

Luke continued along the path, a marked discontent residing somewhere in his chest. As he felt his anger subsiding slightly, he realized that he had, in fact, abandoned Casey at the pond, and it was probably something neither of them had done before – left the other one in anger. Of course they argued, but this was different. Luke wondered if he should turn back, but he still felt angry and wasn’t sure what he would say. It was late and Casey was due at work soon anyway. He always came and went as he pleased, and today was no different.

Luke finally rounded the back of the barn and was approaching the farmhouse when he heard his name being shouted across the driveway. The voice surprised him, and he glanced up just in time to see his little sister running straight for him before she nearly knocked him over with her momentum. Luke, shocked and startled, did his best to hug Natalie against himself as she hiccuped into his shoulder, her sobs muffled between them.

“What is it, Nat?” Luke asked, immediate concern flooding his senses.

“H-he told me he l-loved me!” she cried, clinging to Luke. “I h-hate him!”

Luke furrowed his brow at the news, still reeling from the sudden shift his day had just taken.

“What’s happened?” he asked softly, running a hand over her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

“I don’t want to talk about it! And I don’t want to go home to Mom!” Natalie wailed.

Luke felt helpless. He didn’t know what to say, nor even what to think when his sister was hanging on him like she was, her own world of problems suddenly pushing straight to the forefront of Luke’s attention.

He did his best to console Natalie and guide her gently toward the farmhouse. They had just stepped inside the porch when Luke turned back to shut the screen door and caught a glimpse of Casey heading across the yard, toward his car in the driveway. His head was down and he didn’t glance upward, didn’t see Luke. Instead, Luke watched him climb into his car, dig around for his key in the console tray, and start the engine up.

Luke blinked before turning to lead his distraught sister into the house, curling an arm around her.

“I hate boys! I hate them all!” Natalie shouted through her tears.

Sometimes, Luke had to agree.

Next: Chapter 9