Noah is flat on his back, stretched out on the couch in Aiden’s living room. Keeping quiet, but definitely not asleep.

He pretended that he was when Aiden and Jamie came in from the porch. They must have bought it, or maybe they just know that he doesn't want to talk. They went silently together into Aiden’s bedroom and closed the door.

Noah was kind of surprised by this. He thought he’d have to share the couch with Jamie, since all three of them are staying here tonight. A precaution, just in case Ralph somehow recovers from the record-setting smackdown that Aiden just got finished giving him.

Does Aiden have another couch in his bedroom, or something? Where is Jamie gonna sleep?

Well, whatever. Noah is actually a little grateful to have the living room to himself. He really needs to be alone right now. He's still reeling from what just happened.

He’s never seen Ralph that freaked out before. Not even when Cam was after them. He can almost still hear the pounding of Ralph’s frantic footsteps as he rushed down the stairs, running from Aiden like he had an entire fucking wolfpack on his ass.

Noah thinks of the look on Ralph’s face. He thinks of the look on Aiden’s face, the way it changed as soon as Ralph was gone.

A sharp twist of guilt squeezes Noah’s heart. He winces, runs a hand through his hair, and pushes himself up off of the couch. He snags his pack and lighter from the coffee table, goes to the sliding glass door, and lets himself out into the summer night.

The sky is deep black. Thin clouds stretching over the stars. A soft sprinkle of rain dusts down onto Noah’s shoulders as he crosses the porch and goes to sit on the top step. He lights up, struggling a little with his swollen, aching thumb. Then he gathers his knees to himself, rests his chin on one of them.

He sits there in silence for a long minute, smoking slowly, fidgeting with his lip piercing. And then, suddenly, from nowhere, he’s ambushed with a serious feeling like he’s gonna cry.

He's free. Finally, he's free.

But it cost him. He lost everything. Everything. Honestly - what does he have left? Did he ever even have anything in the first place?

Noah closes his eyes, presses his face into his knees.

Twelve fucking years of standing by Ralph’s side through everything. Thousands of days, thousands of nights. Thousands of times that he had Ralph’s back, looked out for him, did everything for him, got into trouble for him, sacrificed important things for him, stuck by him with unwavering loyalty.

After all that... one night. One choice. One single decision that Noah made for himself. That’s it. That’s all it took to destroy everything between them. All it took for Ralph to blindside Noah with a cartilage-crusher to the face, to tell him to fuck off and never come back.

I don’t mean a goddamn thing to you, do I? Noah had shouted.

No shit, Ralph had answered, his voice seething with ice-cold rage. Did you really just figure that out?

Even in that moment, Noah thought - no, you don’t mean it. You can’t mean it.

He touches his shaking fingers to his swollen eye, hating himself for his monumental stupidity.

For years, some uneasy part of Noah wondered if he should be afraid of Ralph. Or maybe he was afraid of him, deep down.

He told himself that he had nothing to be scared of, that he was being paranoid. Ralph did and said things that chilled Noah right down to his fucking bones, but - they were bonded, brothers. He thought that he was in a safe, protected category, fireproof against Ralph’s sudden infernos of rage.

That night, when Ralph threw the punch, Noah realized that he had never been safe. He saw himself reflected in Ralph’s furious eyes. He saw himself on fire, burning. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t smelled the smoke.

The hard truth had broken over his head like a goddamn cinderblock, and it hurt way worse than the sucker punch to his eye. Freaked him out way more than the blood seeping out from his split knuckles, or the sickening angle his thumb was sitting at before Jamie’s mom set it for him.

Lesson learned. All along, he was right to be afraid.

He can’t stop thinking about how it felt - after twelve fucking years - to look at Ralph and realize that he didn’t really know what he was capable of, what he might do. That Noah had been fed hollow promises all this time, and been dumb enough to eat them up.

The moment the punch connected with Noah's face, Ralph became a complete stranger to him. A dangerous, violent stranger, who now has it out for him, and knows all of his weaknesses.

Noah takes a long drag of his cig, trying to slow his heartbeat.

The gentle summer rain sifts down onto Aiden’s porch, onto Noah’s shoulders. He closes his eyes, lets the touch of the droplets bring him back to himself.

He doesn’t expect anyone to feel bad for him. Who would watch someone spend all their time with a snake, then feel sorry for them when they get bit? And now he’s marked with the venom, poison, bad blood. The one who left it there is probably waiting in the shadows for the next opportunity to strike again.

Noah wonders if this means he’ll always be alone. Like - who would ever, ever invite that into their life? When the only thing they’d get in exchange for it is him? Seriously, who would make that deal?

Noah glances over his shoulder at Aiden’s bedroom window. The lights are off, and he can’t see in.

He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but - Aiden and Jamie stood by him. Faced down Ralph. Noah doesn’t understand why they would do that, but maybe it means something.

Everything about the time that Noah has spent with them so far has been weird.

He didn’t want to drag them into his shit. The only thing that could make the situation worse would be to rain down collateral damage on the only two people willing to help him. But when he tried to go back to Ralph’s house, to give himself up and keep them out of the line of fire - Jamie wouldn’t let him.

And Aiden - he put himself between Noah and Ralph. He pulled out the scary-as-fuck version of himself, the one that he hates. Noah can see how terrible Aiden felt about doing it, how much it cost him. But he did it anyways.

Jamie asking what Noah wants to eat for dinner, how his hand is doing, if he has enough blankets on the couch. Aiden insisting that Noah stay here tonight, to keep him safe from any possible retaliation. Jamie letting Noah stay at his place, fielding calls from Grant, threats from Ralph.

Why are they both being so nice?

Noah is suspicious of it, doesn’t understand what they want in return. What use do they see in him?

Whatever they expect in repayment for their help, Noah will do it, even though he’s exhausted. God, is he fucking exhausted, on a deep level. He’s all used up, has nothing left to give, nothing left to offer. He gave everything he had to Ralph for years and years, and Ralph took it without one fucking word of thanks, then dropped him without a second thought.

Noah takes another puff of his cig, then presses his hand over his eyes, suddenly on the verge of tears again.

He’s fucking sick and tired of it, everything about his old life. He’s sick of having to prove how many hits he can take without falling down. He’s sick of living in fight or flight mode twenty-four hours a day, having to constantly be on guard, to second-guess everything. He’s sick of no one worrying about how he’s doing, how he feels. Sick of no one appreciating a single damn thing he does.

Most of all, he’s sick of being lonely.

He wants - closeness. Real closeness. Despite what he convinced himself, it's clear now that he never had it with Ralph. He’s not sure what it means, what it would feel like or look like. He just knows that he hasn’t had it before, and that he wants it.

But there’s no way to get it.

Noah doesn’t have any friends, now. Jamie and Aiden backed him up against Ralph, but it’s not like they’re his friends, and - his hopes aside, he knows that they don’t want to be. Who the fuck would? Even his own family wants nothing to do with him.

It dawns on Noah that he has nothing and nobody. No place to go, no place to live, no girl, no job, no family, and no friends.

He sits there for a long moment, feeling painfully, sharply, brutally alone.

He puts out the cigarette on the rainy porch, gets to his feet, and goes back inside. He curls up on the couch again, feeling numb. The realization he just had is too big to come to grips with, so he just - isn’t.

Aiden and Jamie don’t want to be his friends, but maybe he can convince them to just let him stick around. He’s used to being the one in the group no one really wants there, so it’s fine. If he just keeps showing up, just makes himself useful enough that they’ll put up with him… that’s better than having no one, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

He’s not going to trust anyone who claims to actually want him around, anyways. There’s no way he’s going to be that naive again. Not after what happened with Ralph. Better to just know upfront, accept right away that no one really cares about him.

Noah cradles his injured thumb to his chest, then rolls onto his side. He tries to let his mind wander to easier things, calmer places, so he can get some sleep.

It's difficult. He can’t sleep on the side he likes, because it puts too much pressure on his blacked-out eye. But that’s not really the problem. It’s the deep, gnawing emptiness in his chest that keeps him up almost until the sun rises.

Noah desperately needs a little love, in whatever form the world is willing to give it to him.

~~~~

He snaps awake to a soft knocking sound.

Displaced and bewildered, he thinks he's back at Ralph's house. His chest starts to tighten up, panic racing through him. Then he thinks he's at Jamie's, and he manages to gasp in a breath.

Then he realizes that he's at Aiden's, and someone is knocking on the sliding glass door.

Oh, shit.

The curtain is closed. Noah can’t see who’s out there. His stomach drops, his head filling with visions of Ralph already pulling a response move against him. Noah didn’t think he would do that so quickly, not after Aiden’s performance last night, but like - it’s possible, isn’t it?

Slowly, he gets to his feet. He ties his hair up in a bun, just in case this comes down to a confrontation. It means leaving the huge fucking bruise on display, but Ralph already knows about it, given that he’s the one who put it there.

Noah pulls the coldest, sharpest, meanest look he can manage onto his face, then shoves back the sliding glass door and the curtain in one swift movement. He leans a shoulder against the doorframe and folds his arms over his chest, radiating as much hostility as he’s humanly capable of.

The person waiting on the porch turns around.

It isn’t Ralph. It’s some other guy that Noah doesn’t recognize, although the guy breaks into a smile so warm and open that Noah wonders if they know each other from somewhere.

“Hey, friend!” the stranger says brightly, with a little wave.

Noah is… very confused by this greeting. He’s absolutely sure now that he doesn’t know this guy. He stares at him, trying to size him up, but dude keeps talking before Noah can quite do that.

“Sorry to bother you,” he says, in the same warm, relaxed tone as before. “I’m looking for - for Jamie Keane…”

The guy fades off, his gaze having fallen on Noah’s eye. Noah angles his head so that the damaged side of his face is slightly less visible, but it’s too late.

The stranger’s eyes fill up with immediate, genuine-seeming concern.

Noah still isn’t sure if this is a trap. What’s this guy’s deal, why is he being so friendly? And looking for Jamie, too… It’s not like Noah and Jamie are friends, but Jamie has helped out Noah on more than one occasion, now, and he had Noah’s back last night. Noah is starting to feel a little protective of him, in spite of himself. Guy’s like a kitten. He needs someone to look out for him, and Aiden isn’t awake yet.

“Said you’re looking for Jamie?” Noah narrows his good eye at the newcomer. “Maybe he’s here, maybe he’s not. What d’you want with him?”

New Guy doesn’t seem to hear anything Noah said. His deep brown eyes are fixed on Noah’s mangled one.

“Shit, man, what happened to you?” he asks, his voice softening up. “You - you look like you could use a hug, bro. Here, bring it in.”

And before Noah can even process this bizarre statement, this complete fucking stranger pulls him out of the doorway and into a tight hug.

Noah can’t fucking stand it when people get all up in his personal space, and an unexpected hug like this would normally earn a stranger a hard shove backwards, but - the thing is, it’s well-timed. Kinda like… weirdly reassuring, after everything. After the last couple days Noah’s had, a little human contact actually feels good. Even from someone he doesn’t know. Maybe he could only accept this from someone he doesn’t know.

It’s the strangest thing, but Noah wants to sink into this hug and drop his head and just unleash every tear he hasn’t cried, every painful thing he’s had relentlessly building up, one on top of the other, in chest…

Cool, great idea, how is he going to explain that? Sorry, man, this isn’t what it looks like, and I know this is weird, but you have no fuckin’ idea what I’ve been through, and it’s just nice to have someone open their arms for you sometimes...

Jesus Christ. He needs to get it together.

This guy smells nice, too - something like wood resin - but Noah has already let this go on for too long. S’been like, three entire seconds.

“Okay, um-” Noah works himself free and takes a step back. “I’m sorry - who the fuck are you?”

“Fair enough,” the guy laughs. “Name’s Raj. Jamie contracted me to do some work for him.”

He holds up a legit-looking work order, with both his name and Jamie’s printed on it. So - he’s nothing to do with Ralph, then.

Relieved, Noah relaxes a little. He stares at Raj with calmer eyes, allowing himself a better and longer look.

Raj has an interesting face. All the fine bones of it are sharp, straight, and angular, except for his cheekbones. But somehow the collective look of them is really, like - soft? Maybe it’s because of his eyes. They’re a deep, rich, mocha-brown color. Dark in shade, but his smile is glowing through them. All open and friendly-like. He’s got shiny, obsidian curls, cut shorter on the sides, but at the front they spill down into his face a little bit, touching one angular eyebrow.

Raj, Noah thinks, putting the name and face together in his mind.

“Noah,” he says, because Raj is waiting for a response.

Raj smiles again. “It’s so nice to meet you, man.”

Totally fucking disarming, how much he sounds like he means it. How he talks to Noah with the easy familiarity and warmth that people reserve for loved ones they’ve known for ages. He and Noah met each other only seconds ago, but the cadence of Raj’s voice - and the look in his eyes - makes it feel like they’re close friends who have been apart for years, finally getting to see each other again.

Noah accepts the hand slap that Raj offers him, feeling a strange, bright spark in his chest.

“Nice to meet you, too.”