skeptic [l.h]

0.2

roughly one hour into the flight, when two ladies emerged from behind the cabin's curtains (what was the deal with the curtains, anyway? luke kind of felt like he was on the backstage of a circus) with a trolley sporting foods and drinks piled on top of each other, luke felt safe enough to unbuckle his belt, even though the security sign for it had been turned off a while ago.

when the flight attendants stopped next to luke, he payed a glance to the girl sitting next to him, sleeping soundly. she had her head rested on one of those neck pillows, and there was an almost undetectable snore ever so present in her slumber (which luke found weirdly adorable). then he noticed he was probably looking rather fondly at that sleeping stranger so he tore his gaze away and focused on the cart next to their row.

"what would you like, dear?" the lady (jen. just jen. luke liked knowing people's names) asked him, with a smile on her face. he couldn't help but return the gesture, feeling slightly flustered.

"uh, do you have orange juice?"

jen filled a thick plastic cup with the liquid, handing it over to luke who took it with trembling fingers. he was all better now, but for some reason the shaking wouldn't stop.

'just shake it off' he sang to himself, snorting. (perhaps making friends would be slightly harder than he had first presumed.)

"anything else?"

luke bit down on his lip, slightly startled when he felt the cold metal of his piercing sliding into his mouth. he wasn't really used to it, yet.

"yeah, um, i'll have — m&m's, maybe? preferably the peanut ones?" luke thought back to his own packet of candy melting on his pocket, and grimaced at the memory. well, he'd just have to deal with the mess later because there was no way in hell he was going to go to the bathroom on a plane. by himself.

"i'm sorry, sweety. we don't have those. maybe you'd like just peanuts?"

he nodded, grabbing the small packet of nuts before the ladies continued down the rows. they were still warm in his hand, and he unpeeled the delicate packaging before putting an almond in his mouth. luke hadn't realized how hungry he had been until just now, and he was glad to finally take care of a grumbling stomach.

after a few more hours of slight turbulence and four episodes of how i met your mother, the plane finally landed in jfk, intact. 

luke felt awesome. better than awesome. incredible. like a million fucking bucks.

he had flown on his own  for over ten hours on the vast, harsh lands of the sky and landed in one piece. without vomit on his shirt.

he made his way confidently through the airport, and he didn't even use the conveyor belt — that's how good he felt.

of course, as soon as he spotted his dad, one hand wrapped around his wife's torso (which was quite large, luke assumed she was sporting yet another pregnancy), and the other petting a head of curly blonde locks belonging to a little boy, who held up a sign written 'Luke :-D' on it, that's when he freaked out.

well, more like slapped his hand to his mouth and ran towards the nearest drinking fountain and, for lack of a better term, threw up all over it, his eyes watery while he pushed the contents of two days of binge eating out through his mouth.

some popcorn flakes got stuck in his food pipe and luke let out a wheezing sound, watching helplessly as his dad, his half-brother, a fat security guard and a fat old lady all came to rescue him.

andy handed him a bottle of water he snatched from somewhere, and luke downed it all, feeling the cool liquid burning his sore throat.

"shit. i'm sorry, i just — shit." luke wasn't sure who he was addressing, so he stared at the little infant clutching the sign, his eyes wide as he took in his surroundings.

"it's okay, luke. it's okay, everybody — thank you so much sir; m'am." his dad handed the now empty water bottle to the old lady — luke assumed it belonged to her and just shot her an apologizing look through his blurry vision —, both of them watching as the security guy retrieved luke's bag and handed to his dad.

"dad, i—"

"what have you been eating, son?"

andy placed his palm on luke's shoulder, watching as the boy stiffened under his touch. when he didn't answer his father promptly, the older man just sighed and dropped to his knees, addressing the younger one.

"max, go be with mommy, ok? daddy's going to take care of luke now."

"is he going to die, daddy?" the toddler choked out with weary eyes and luke snorted, feeling queasy again. his dad shot him a look.

"no, sweetheart, he's not. he just needs some rest and maybe some more water — god, luke, you're white as a paper sheet." andy pats max's back gently and the boy takes it as a sign to scurry off, hugging his mom's legs that, for some reason, didn't move from her spot during the whole episode, and that made luke respect her a little bit more. but just a little bit.

neither of them talked. andy stared at luke and luke stared at andy, both pointedly ignoring the faint smell of bile and the awkwardness of being seven years apart from each other. finally, andy stretched his arms and wrapped it around his son's shoulders, in a failed attempt at comforting him.

"it's good to  have you back, kiddo."

"yeah. it's good to be back."

-

should i continue?