Sixteen. Sixteen is never a happy birthday for anyone that is set to become an angel or a demon. They have no way of telling beforehand if Rachel will shift or not.
Either way, he is her best friend, Noah would be there.
Either way, he is her guardian, Noah would be there.
She doesn't know the latter of the two, and he still hasn't figured out how to tell her. He will someday. He will after this day passes, after the transformation is over. For now, he isn't even thinking at all about how she is his ward.
His focus is entirely on the fact that this is Rachel. This is his best friend, and they have always been best friends. He slides across the floor to sit beside her against the bed when he hears the shakiness in her voice. Even if he didn't hear it, he can feel how she feels like she'll be sick.
The nerves are wracking through him as well, but it's harder to tell as he presents that calm front always. It isn't even a front. There is something deeper than him that allows him to remain calm even when he does not feel it.
( ... )
She cannot stop looking at the clock. She would rather just have it be done with, to just know, even if there is no doubt it would not be pleasant. Rachel remembers how she worried to death about all of them when they went through their own transformations, knowing there might come a time when she'd have to go through it, too. She checked in and hovered on them all to an almost unbearable degree.
They others will want to know the verdict, as well, and she'll have to rely on Noah's journal since she doesn't have one of her own yet. And might not ever get one. She keeps telling herself that. It's only a 50% possibility. The odds can go either way, neither option necessarily in her favor.
She only looks away from the clock when he slides down to the floor beside her, and she manages a small smile. She is usually good at keeping her cool under most situations herself, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. This is scary. This is... a I may not be human tomorrow sort of thing, and no one wants the pain
( ... )
Noah is determined btw to give her a celebration worth having. He might do that for her current birthday. Throw her a surprise party at the Evans' basement. She should have at least one birthday that she can remember fondly.
He wants to give that to her.
However, this birthday was not going to be it. There's something else, something much bigger to contend with this year. No room for celebrating. It is all about surviving, getting through this and then recovering.
"But it felt right when you made me look scared? Is that what I'm hearing?" Noah asks with his eyebrows raised, still looking amused as he looks at her. "There was a reason. That makes it so much better, Rachel. Totally okay now, because you have this reason for it
( ... )
Baw, Noah! You are the best frand. She would secretly like that. Well, she'd like anything that came from him. ;;
This birthday was not going to be it, no. Especially not if she did change. She has read stories about people that die during transformations. Not all of them survive it. She's read as much as she can, read even more about it as his own transformation was right around the corner, and everybody else's.
"No!" She gives a small pause. Rachel nudges him with her elbow at the sight of that amusement. "Okay, that possibly did not come out as I'd intended for it to. I am not saying the reason excuses it! I am saying there is at least a reason. It would be worse if I'd made you eat dirt for no reason at all."
She is grateful he never seemed to hold it against her. There's really no saying why she did want his attention. Maybe he seemed lonely, or maybe she was, or maybe she'd just known they were supposed to be friends.
And went about it the wrong way at first.
"He was horrible. I feel like middle school and high school is
( ... )
LMFAO, one time he will give her a rock just so we can test this theory. No, not really. :x
People do die during it. Noah has read it too. He is thinking about it and has been thinking about it in the days leading up to this moment. There's no comfort that can be offered in regards to it.
It's a possibility. It helps to have someone there, but it is always a possibility. Rachel is strong, he reminds himself. She is a fighter. It doesn't stop him from worrying.
Noah laughs at her No, aware of what she meant even if it didn't come out that way exactly. It didn't have to. He knows because he knows her and he agrees with what she means about it all.
He was lonely. Even someone making him eat mud was more attention than he usually got out on the playground field so it was kind of nice for another kid to notice him. Even if they did so violently. Then she protected him, and she may have been a bully but she was his bully.
"It's fascinating and strange. All this time, I still don't really feel like I understand it," Noah admits, and
( ... )
It's hard to say how long it's been but it has been longer than seconds. Noah was out of the room when she fell... unconscious. It was almost impossible to tear himself away but he needed to refresh their supply of the heating pad and the ice. He actually moved the microwave in here so he could warm it up from here without having to go to the kitchen.
He made sure that her mom wasn't drinking herself into oblivion too. She was passed out on the couch.
Noah is sitting on a chair beside the bed. His hands are fists up against his chin while he looks down at the floor. He senses when she lifts her head, looking around. He moves to her side, slipping his hand over her shoulders. "Don't be scared," he says, and it's a soft but firm sound, pulling the heating pad and placing it around her neck.
His hands drift by her hair, resting against the bottoms of it, pressing it gently against her chest. "I'm here."
LMFAO, if he gave her a rock she would throw it at his head, this is true.
There are many variables to think about, and she likely has considered every possible one. Survival rates of transformations, potential Callings and what she would do depending on which she'd receive, alternative methods of dealing with them if they are the really bad ones.
Rachel wasn't able to be there for his transformation the way he is being there for hers. She'd have wanted to but he had his mom, who would've been far more help than she was, and she'd told him to write to her the moment she could come over and fussed over him to an almost overbearing degree. One of the few times she cried openly like an open thing, and she likely read to him while he was still falling in and out of sleep while recuperating.
They'd all fuss over each other, in their own way, since they are very protective and care for each other so much
( ... )
It's touch and go, in and out of consciousness, constant bursts of pain for twenty four hours.
The longest she sleeps is three hours, and it's enough that when she wakes up again, there's a fortunate lull. A brief respite where she is neither too warm nor too cold, and the ache is manageable even if she aches all over. Her wings haven't slid out yet, but there are protrusions in her shoulder blades, and a soreness in the now darkly bruised skin signaling they aren't too far behind.
She doesn't move from her spot.
She feels if she does, the lull will be taken from her, from the both of them, and she should therefore not move. But her eyes do scan the room as much as she can, until she spots him. Her vision is not so blurry and her head doesn't feel like it might explode. Her heart's slowly settling back into a comfortable rhythm.
"Noah?" she asks softly, almost timidly but not quite. Whispered. Her throat is sore from screaming and her voice is hoarse. "...Do you like being an angel?"
They all are very protective of each other. If there's one similarity that they all share, it's that they are so protective of one another. When one of them hurts, they all hover around as much as they are able. If they are not able to be there, they likely don't sleep, all hanging around, waiting for word, waiting until they can come over
( ... )
When she needs him, when she's awake, he will be right there.
She doesn't need to string the words together. Noah is looking at her, beside her, grateful when she slips back down on to the pillow. He brushes the hair from her face, slips the heating pad upon her as she lies there.
Noah can feel when she wakes up this last time, the differences, and it's a relief. It's more relief than he can explain. His head is bowed down slightly, and he is resting on the floor by her bed but he gets up as soon as he knows she's awake.
He slips back on to the bed as soon as he knows she is awake. He rests on the edge of it, near enough that she can see him easily. I'm here wants to come out but it doesn't this time. It's like he can't manage the words, the voice to say a word. Noah swallows when she says his voice and nods instead of speaking
( ... )
They are all very lucky to have each other as close friends in the way that they do.
They have helped each other in multiple ways. They've grown with each other. They've been the support system that they are for one another, and it is more true after this year when almost all of them had to contend with that change. They went from being human to being angels or demons, and it is a huge change.
Every part of their body changes. Their blood shifts. They get a calling which slips into their mind and becomes-- it is a part of who they are. It's there, and it's loud, and it's telling them what they should do even if what they should do is something that they would personally disagree with.
They all understand because they were there for it. They wouldn't have wanted their friends to see them, screaming through the pain of it. It's different with Noah, because Noah is her best friend since kindergarten and she can't be alone through it
( ... )
Noah takes in a deep breath, steeling himself in time for the next wave to hit. He sits up as soon as the pain hits her and him in turn. "Not forever," he reminds her as he moves closer to her, but not too close. He slides on to the floor beside the bed, moving until his face is right next to hers.
He can't be behind her. She won't see him with the wings that will be pushing from her back.
He shakes his head at those words, feeling how much she believes them, knowing how he has to convince her that-- that she can. It feels impossible. she shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have had to deal with any of this.
His hand slips beside her face. His knees dig into her carpet. "You can. You can. I know it feels like you can't, but you can. You're the strongest person I've ever known, huh? You're a lot tougher than me, remember?" There are still tears in his eyes, throat tight, jaw locked as he tenses his back, preparing for the rush of pain from her, from her to him and that's right
( ... )
Either way, he is her best friend, Noah would be there.
Either way, he is her guardian, Noah would be there.
She doesn't know the latter of the two, and he still hasn't figured out how to tell her. He will someday. He will after this day passes, after the transformation is over. For now, he isn't even thinking at all about how she is his ward.
His focus is entirely on the fact that this is Rachel. This is his best friend, and they have always been best friends. He slides across the floor to sit beside her against the bed when he hears the shakiness in her voice. Even if he didn't hear it, he can feel how she feels like she'll be sick.
The nerves are wracking through him as well, but it's harder to tell as he presents that calm front always. It isn't even a front. There is something deeper than him that allows him to remain calm even when he does not feel it. ( ... )
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She cannot stop looking at the clock. She would rather just have it be done with, to just know, even if there is no doubt it would not be pleasant. Rachel remembers how she worried to death about all of them when they went through their own transformations, knowing there might come a time when she'd have to go through it, too. She checked in and hovered on them all to an almost unbearable degree.
They others will want to know the verdict, as well, and she'll have to rely on Noah's journal since she doesn't have one of her own yet. And might not ever get one. She keeps telling herself that. It's only a 50% possibility. The odds can go either way, neither option necessarily in her favor.
She only looks away from the clock when he slides down to the floor beside her, and she manages a small smile. She is usually good at keeping her cool under most situations herself, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. This is scary. This is... a I may not be human tomorrow sort of thing, and no one wants the pain ( ... )
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He wants to give that to her.
However, this birthday was not going to be it. There's something else, something much bigger to contend with this year. No room for celebrating. It is all about surviving, getting through this and then recovering.
"But it felt right when you made me look scared? Is that what I'm hearing?" Noah asks with his eyebrows raised, still looking amused as he looks at her. "There was a reason. That makes it so much better, Rachel. Totally okay now, because you have this reason for it ( ... )
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This birthday was not going to be it, no. Especially not if she did change. She has read stories about people that die during transformations. Not all of them survive it. She's read as much as she can, read even more about it as his own transformation was right around the corner, and everybody else's.
"No!" She gives a small pause. Rachel nudges him with her elbow at the sight of that amusement. "Okay, that possibly did not come out as I'd intended for it to. I am not saying the reason excuses it! I am saying there is at least a reason. It would be worse if I'd made you eat dirt for no reason at all."
She is grateful he never seemed to hold it against her. There's really no saying why she did want his attention. Maybe he seemed lonely, or maybe she was, or maybe she'd just known they were supposed to be friends.
And went about it the wrong way at first.
"He was horrible. I feel like middle school and high school is ( ... )
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People do die during it. Noah has read it too. He is thinking about it and has been thinking about it in the days leading up to this moment. There's no comfort that can be offered in regards to it.
It's a possibility. It helps to have someone there, but it is always a possibility. Rachel is strong, he reminds himself. She is a fighter. It doesn't stop him from worrying.
Noah laughs at her No, aware of what she meant even if it didn't come out that way exactly. It didn't have to. He knows because he knows her and he agrees with what she means about it all.
He was lonely. Even someone making him eat mud was more attention than he usually got out on the playground field so it was kind of nice for another kid to notice him. Even if they did so violently. Then she protected him, and she may have been a bully but she was his bully.
"It's fascinating and strange. All this time, I still don't really feel like I understand it," Noah admits, and ( ... )
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It's hard to say how long it's been but it has been longer than seconds. Noah was out of the room when she fell... unconscious. It was almost impossible to tear himself away but he needed to refresh their supply of the heating pad and the ice. He actually moved the microwave in here so he could warm it up from here without having to go to the kitchen.
He made sure that her mom wasn't drinking herself into oblivion too. She was passed out on the couch.
Noah is sitting on a chair beside the bed. His hands are fists up against his chin while he looks down at the floor. He senses when she lifts her head, looking around. He moves to her side, slipping his hand over her shoulders. "Don't be scared," he says, and it's a soft but firm sound, pulling the heating pad and placing it around her neck.
His hands drift by her hair, resting against the bottoms of it, pressing it gently against her chest. "I'm here."
It's not over yet, but he's still here.
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There are many variables to think about, and she likely has considered every possible one. Survival rates of transformations, potential Callings and what she would do depending on which she'd receive, alternative methods of dealing with them if they are the really bad ones.
Rachel wasn't able to be there for his transformation the way he is being there for hers. She'd have wanted to but he had his mom, who would've been far more help than she was, and she'd told him to write to her the moment she could come over and fussed over him to an almost overbearing degree. One of the few times she cried openly like an open thing, and she likely read to him while he was still falling in and out of sleep while recuperating.
They'd all fuss over each other, in their own way, since they are very protective and care for each other so much ( ... )
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The longest she sleeps is three hours, and it's enough that when she wakes up again, there's a fortunate lull. A brief respite where she is neither too warm nor too cold, and the ache is manageable even if she aches all over. Her wings haven't slid out yet, but there are protrusions in her shoulder blades, and a soreness in the now darkly bruised skin signaling they aren't too far behind.
She doesn't move from her spot.
She feels if she does, the lull will be taken from her, from the both of them, and she should therefore not move. But her eyes do scan the room as much as she can, until she spots him. Her vision is not so blurry and her head doesn't feel like it might explode. Her heart's slowly settling back into a comfortable rhythm.
"Noah?" she asks softly, almost timidly but not quite. Whispered. Her throat is sore from screaming and her voice is hoarse. "...Do you like being an angel?"
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She doesn't need to string the words together. Noah is looking at her, beside her, grateful when she slips back down on to the pillow. He brushes the hair from her face, slips the heating pad upon her as she lies there.
Noah can feel when she wakes up this last time, the differences, and it's a relief. It's more relief than he can explain. His head is bowed down slightly, and he is resting on the floor by her bed but he gets up as soon as he knows she's awake.
He slips back on to the bed as soon as he knows she is awake. He rests on the edge of it, near enough that she can see him easily. I'm here wants to come out but it doesn't this time. It's like he can't manage the words, the voice to say a word. Noah swallows when she says his voice and nods instead of speaking ( ... )
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They have helped each other in multiple ways. They've grown with each other. They've been the support system that they are for one another, and it is more true after this year when almost all of them had to contend with that change. They went from being human to being angels or demons, and it is a huge change.
Every part of their body changes. Their blood shifts. They get a calling which slips into their mind and becomes-- it is a part of who they are. It's there, and it's loud, and it's telling them what they should do even if what they should do is something that they would personally disagree with.
They all understand because they were there for it. They wouldn't have wanted their friends to see them, screaming through the pain of it. It's different with Noah, because Noah is her best friend since kindergarten and she can't be alone through it ( ... )
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Noah takes in a deep breath, steeling himself in time for the next wave to hit. He sits up as soon as the pain hits her and him in turn. "Not forever," he reminds her as he moves closer to her, but not too close. He slides on to the floor beside the bed, moving until his face is right next to hers.
He can't be behind her. She won't see him with the wings that will be pushing from her back.
He shakes his head at those words, feeling how much she believes them, knowing how he has to convince her that-- that she can. It feels impossible. she shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have had to deal with any of this.
His hand slips beside her face. His knees dig into her carpet. "You can. You can. I know it feels like you can't, but you can. You're the strongest person I've ever known, huh? You're a lot tougher than me, remember?" There are still tears in his eyes, throat tight, jaw locked as he tenses his back, preparing for the rush of pain from her, from her to him and that's right ( ... )
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