Trigger Warning: Physical/verbal abuse, depression, self-harm/blood, suicide, anxiety

* * * 

Andy was even more exhausted that night than he had been the last time Noah was there. His fear of Jude returning again was making him unable to function much at all, and he was beyond grateful that Noah was there and being so gentle with him. Every time he thought he'd reached the point where Noah would either turn and walk out or laugh and hit him, Noah did no such thing, continued instead being soft-spoken.

It took Noah a while to clean his arm. Blood from a week ago was stubborn on Andy's skin, and Noah didn't want to hurt him by rubbing too hard to get it off, so he worked slowly. Neither spoke.

Andy ate the chocolate cake and sipped his tea, then realised Noah hadn't eaten his and asked him to let go of his arm so he could lean across the table and pull the plate closer. The immediate movement of Noah to stop touching him when he asked could have made him cry again. Wordless, he picked up the fork and held it towards Noah. 

Smiling, Noah took it, taking a break from cleaning Andy's arm to eat it. He could tell Andy was considerably more scared that night than he had been before Jude's return but said nothing of it. Andy didn't need to be reminded of how awful he was feeling. If he wanted to talk about it, he'd bring it up. 

Once his arm was clean, Andy let Noah help him up and walk him to the stairs. He was shaking so much he felt sick, though perhaps the sickness was down to how frightened he was. Every time the thought crossed his mind of Noah leaving, of him being alone in the house, he had the urge to bend over and vomit. 

"Do you need help with the stairs?" Noah asked, recalling the last time he'd been there. "It's okay if you don't. Whatever you feel comfortable with."

Andy nodded at the offer of help, nodding again when Noah asked if he could touch his shoulders. He felt like he was constantly on the verge of a panic attack since the banging on the door earlier that night and wanted to lie down and never get up again. 

From the top of the stairs, Noah walked him to the bedroom, only letting go of him and stepping back once he was on the bed and not at risk of stumbling and hurting himself. He seemed about ready to pass out or drop dead.

As soon as contact was lost, Andy began to cry again, panicking that Noah would leave him there and Jude would come back. Stuttering through the tears, "Please, don't - don't go, please..." 

"I'm here," Noah said. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to, okay? I'm right here as long as you need me to be."

Andy wiped at his eyes weakly. He felt guilty that he'd doubted Noah at all but couldn't help it. All he knew was how to be let down. "Okay," he whispered. "Promise?" 

"I promise."

 "Can - can you maybe - can you give me a - a hug?

"Of course I can." Noah sat on the bed, waiting for Andy to move towards him, only putting his arms around him after Andy had leaned into his chest, keeping them loose.

Against him, Andy turned his head and took in a deep breath. He could hear Noah's heart beating, and it had been so long since he'd been in the position to hear someone's heart that his tears got heavier. He closed his eyes and kept taking deep breaths. Noah's heart was a great comfort; there was a person alive who was not hurting him. 

Noah didn't move his hands, avoiding accidentally startling him. The last thing Andy needed was to be startled again; his body was shaking enough as it was. He was deep in what Noah could only assume was a nervous breakdown, unsurprising considering everything done to him but difficult to witness nonetheless. Noah would have swapped places with him in a heartbeat just for Andy to have even an hour without any of his trauma. 

Andy was using Noah's steady heartbeat to slowly calm down, counting in his head the seconds between each pump until he was no longer crying, just sleepy. He mumbled, "Noah?" 

"Yeah?" His voice resonated in his chest against Andy's head. 

"I feel like I still - I still should kill myself." 

"Do you want to talk it at all?" 

"I don't know. I don't really...what would I say?" 

"You say whatever you need to say. There's no judgement here. But you don't have to. Only if you want to, okay?" 

Andy yawned. "Okay." 

"Do you want to get some sleep? I'll stay downstairs?" 

"What if he comes back and - and hurts you?" 

"If he comes back, I'll deal with him, okay? And don't you worry about him hurting me. If he does, it won't be your fault and I'll be okay."

"But - he might - he might hurt you really bad, and - and you don't - you're not - you don't deserve to be - to be hurt." 

"Andy, hey, I'll be okay." 

"He's so...Noah, he's so scary." 

"I know. I'm sorry he used your fear to hurt you. I told him I'd call his parents and tell them what he's been doing if he comes back so I don't think he will. That man is nothing if not a mummy's boy. He'd do anything to keep her from knowing." A pause, then, "I'm telling his parents either way, but he doesn't need to know that." 

"You are?" 

"Of course. I'm hardly gonna let him live freely after what he's put you through. I won't call the police unless you ask me to, though, okay? I know how stressful that would be so it's okay if you don't want to do that." 

"Okay." 

"I'm sorry you're so scared. I would be, too, if I was in your position. If there's anything I can do to make you feel a little safer, you let me know, okay?" 

Against his chest, Andy nodded. "Thank you," he mumbled. "Really." 

"That's okay. You're welcome." 

"There's a spare bedroom, you could - you could stay there? It's more comfy than the couch." 

"Oh. Thank you." 

"I think it needs sheets. I'll - I'll find some." 

"No, that's okay. I'll do it. You get some sleep if you can."

"Okay." Andy moved from Noah, lying down and waiting for Noah to leave the room and quietly close the door before tiredly undressing and pulling the covers over himself.