Trigger Warning: Physical/verbal abuse, injury

* * * 

Noah had never seen anyone so frightened before in his life. 

The house was not silent. Jude was banging on the door and yelling to be let back in. Noah didn't have any idea how to make him stop, but the noise was causing Andy's hyperventilating to worsen, and Noah had no doubt that his presence in the house wasn't helping, either. But he couldn't just leave Andy there alone, covered in bruises and terrified of his own boyfriend. Andy was clearly desperately in need. Noah had to help him. 

He thought about calling the police and reporting a case of domestic assault, but it wasn't up to him when doing that would put Andy through endless interviews and questionings. If Jude was to be reported, it had to be Andy's decision. 

He glanced from the front door - the banging and yelling continued - to the living room. Andy's head was still in his arms. He was audibly sobbing, trying desperately to keep quiet, but the act of trying to calm down was making his state worse.

 Noah took his phone from his pocket and opened Folio's contact, texting him, "Emergency!! Jude drunk outside his house. Need you to get him away NOW. Will explain later." 

Folio replied quickly - thank god - "OMW." 

While he waited for Nick to turn up and hopefully drag Jude away, Noah remained where he was. The sound of Andy's panic was awful but he knew better than to attempt to speak to him. Afterall, he was a complete stranger, and for Andy all knew, could have been there to inflict more pain onto him. 

The sickness Noah had been feeling since seeing Jude hit Andy came back in a lurch at the thought of hurting anyone intentionally, and remained as he bounced on his feet, anxious for the banging on the door to cease.

He could barely make sense of that fact his friend had been hiding a man in the house to beat up; Noah thought he knew Jude well, but if he was capable of something so brutal, well, Noah didn't know him at all. 

He looked back at Andy. The man was still sobbing, struggling to breathe through the distress. Noah didn't need to ask to know that whatever Jude had been doing to him, it had been going on for a long time. 

Things were starting to make sense, though Noah was still in shock and couldn't think all that clearly. It was apparent that the reason Jude had not let anyone meet Andy was because he didn't want them to find out what was going on, and he wondered, horrified, if he'd kept Andy trapped in the house for the entire time they'd been living together. Cutting him off from everyone else. Isolating him from help. Making him utterly dependent on the man who was responsible for his suffering. 

Had he even interacted with another person in the last six years? 

Noah shuddered at the thought. 

The banging abruptly stopped. Noah stood warily by the door, unsure if Nick had pulled Jude away or not. In his drunken state, Jude could have been about to throw a rock through the window.

A text arrived from Nick: "Got him." 

Noah replied, thanking him, before he put his phone back in his pocket and took a few steps into the living room. For a moment, he hesitated, considering what the hell to do.

"Hey, Andy?" He spoke softly. 

Andy's head shot up, as it had for Jude's crying. He looked wrecked. Face blotchy with bruises and hot tears, eyes painfully red. Noah imagined his black eye must have been agonizing by the looks of it, all swollen and purple. 

"Hi," Noah said, staying where he was. "I'm Noah. I'm - I was a friend of Jude's. Not anymore, obviously. I'm so sorry for the way he's been treating you and I know you must be so scared and you have no reason to trust or believe me, but I want to help you." 

Andy stared at him, like he worried if he looked away, something bad would happen. He said nothing. His body continued to shake. 

"Can I get you some water?" Noah offered. 

"You're...his friend?" Andy asked hesitantly. His voice was fragile and incredibly soft. 

"I was, until ten minutes ago. I saw him hit you through the window. Does that - does he do that a lot?" 

"I don't - " Andy cut himself off, then shook his head,  blinked stiffly. It seemed to make his entire face hurt each time he blinked. "I'm sorry," he whispered. 

"No, no, you're good, you don't need to apologise. Do you want a painkiller or something? I can find some for you." 

"Are you - are you gonna make me do it?" There was trembling dread in his voice. 

Noah frowned, unsure what he was talking about. "I'm not gonna make you do anything." 

"You're not - you're - you're not one of the - the men?" 

"What men?" 

"Are - are you one of them? Are you...please, I don't - I don't wanna do it." 

"No, I'm only here because I want to help you. You don't have to do anything, I promise." 

Andy didn't seem convinced, not that Noah blamed him. He lifted his hand to his face, touched his tender eye, and whimpered in pain. "Please don't make me do it," he begged, eyes spilling over.

"I'm not going to make you do anything. I'm just here to help you." 

"I don't wanna do it. I don't wanna do it." He was panicking again, moving himself further against the wall and covering his head, repeating over and over that he didn't wanna do it.

"You don't have to do it," Noah said, didn't know what it was but had a few guesses, all of which made him want to vomit. "I'm gonna get you some water and painkillers." Leaving the living room, Noah filled a glass in the kitchen and looked through the drawers for paracetamol, finding none. He left the glass on the table to go upstairs, searching the bathroom, descending the stairs with a packet in hand. When he returned to the living room, Andy was still in the same place, watching him intently. "Here," Noah said softly, placing the glass and painkillers on the coffee table a good distance from Andy. 

Andy looked at them, then back at Noah. He was visibly confused, couldn't work out the motives behind Noah's kindness. "Thanks," he said, and must have been desperate for the painkillers and water because despite his panic, he crawled towards the table and took the pills, swallowed them with large gulps of water, then finished the glass quickly.

Clearly, he was dehydrated. As if beating him wasn't enough, Jude was restricting his water, too. 

He sat back in his previous spot and stared at Noah again. 

Picking up the empty glass, Noah went to re-fill it, and almost before he had placed it back down on the table, Andy was moving to reach it. Noah sat on the floor while he gulped down the water, asked as he finished, "more?"

Andy flinched at his voice, clutching the glass as though a shield while staring at Noah. He whispered, "Please don't make me do it," and then repeated, "Please don't."

"I'm not gonna make you do anything," Noah replied. "I'm here to help you."

There was a long pause. "Help me?" Andy asked slowly, like he didn't know what it meant, like he didn't think help was ever going to be for him. 

Noah smiled gently. "Yeah. I wanna help you."

"I...you...what?"

"I wanna help you," Noah repeated. "Can I get you some more water? Something to eat?"

"I don't wanna do it," whispered Andy. His eyes were leaking again. "Don't make me. Don't make me. Please. Don't make me." 

"I'm not gonna make you do anything. I promise." 

Andy was gripping the glass in his hands tightly. "I don't wanna do it," he repeated, seemed to be slipping between what was actually happening and what was going on in his head, in his memories. He was blocking his mouth with his arms and Noah was fairly certain he knew what it was. 

"You don't have to do it," He assured him. "You don't have to do it ever again." 

Crying, Andy met Noah's eyes with his. "No, I...No, I have to," he stuttered. "I have to." 

Noah shook his head. "Not anymore." 

"I have to." 

"Is that what he told you? You have to do it?" 

Andy nodded slowly. 

"I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." 

"Where - where is he?" 

"He's not gonna be back tonight." 

"What? No, how - how will he - how will he calm down if - if he's not - not here?" 

Noah couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in his stomach. It was becoming horribly obvious that Jude had been using Andy as an outlet for his anger and frustration, and by the sounds of, letting others use him, too. "He's calming down with my friend, and then we're going to make sure he doesn't come back to hurt you again, okay? I know it's so confusing and scary but I promise you, I'm gonna help you. You don't need to live like this any longer." 

Loosening his hold on the glass, Andy lowered it to the ground. His hands were still shaking. "You're gonna help me?" 

"Is that okay?" 

"I don't - I don't know who you are." 

"I know. And you don't have to trust me right now; I wouldn't if I was in your position. I know this must all be so overwhelming and confusing. I'm so sorry it's taken this long for someone to see what's going on. I can't imagine how alone you must feel. How much pain you must be in all the time. I'm so sorry." 

Andy was biting on his bottom lip, tears running over his bruised cheeks and down his neck. The painkillers were yet to kick in and his bruised eye was making his entire head throb.