There's a soft smile as he watches her from her spot, watches how she moves as if exploring the world for the first time. He has a pretty intense memory of when he first woke up for the first time after the wings, after knowing what he was.
Everything shifted even what had stayed the same. It shifted into something new. Sensations were different. Strength was different. He had more of it than he was used to, right at his fingertips. His body was different. It was a big shift, took time to get used to walking because even that felt different.
He senses her relief. It almost makes him smile again, but he stops it.
Noah is grateful that he can be a comfort considering everything that's happened. The worst of it is over. She'll still be in pain, but it'll be nothing in comparison to what she just went through.
He smiles back at her, sensing the warmth in it, the reality of it, and it relieves him even more. Noah shifts forward on the bed until he's closer to her, and it's good to see her alive and not... not in so much pain.
Not screaming. Not crying. His chest eases further.
"I think that's the best description of what that's like," Noah admits quietly as he looks at her. He never wants to drink either. Never. But run over by a truck, yeah. It sounds about right.
She is alive.
God, she is alive. Noah is so grateful for that. There aren't words for it, honestly. He could protest her gentle accusation, but he knows that she knows and he can't... exactly lie. Even if he could, he wouldn't' be able to lie to her.
"I couldn't," he admits softly instead, tilting his head to the side a bit and taking in a deep breath. "Not until I knew. Not until I saw you again. Awake."
Awake and not in pain. Like Rachel again.
He wanted to talk to her like this.
"I have crackers and water. You should try eating, drinking something." There's a slight, slight pause. "...happy birthday by the way."
Her smile widens a fraction as he shifts closer. It's subdued and quiet in nature, though very genuine, even if she isn't saying anything. Even if he isn't saying anything, either.
She has learned that after a certain amount of years of knowing someone, you can actually have a conversation with them without speaking.
"Yeah, definitely. A truck or maybe a freight train," she says almost inaudibly, hand running up and down her arm idly. She is colder to the touch than she used to be. She looks up at him too, at what he says, and the seriousness of the past night hasn't escaped her notice.
It's not something she could ever forget.
I'm sorry is on the tip of her tongue to say, but she swallows it back down despite the guilt settling into her stomach in the form of a knot. She knows she scared him, and he hasn't slept in over a day becasue he's been taking care of her instead, and she certainly never wanted him to see something like that.
She'd known it would be bad but she'd never realized how bad.
"I'm glad you stayed," she says instead, her hand slipping over her arm and up her back tentatively. She is sore all over, but compared to the past thirty-six hours, it's virtually nothing. Her hands drop back to her lap soundlessly, and she keeps looking at them.
It's all shifted in a way she can't quite explain. Even her fingertips.
Rachel laughs almost inaudibly, her voice raspy to her own ears, and she takes a sip of water. It hurts some to swallow it down. It's a miracle her vocal chords didn't burst or something with all the screaming.
"Thank you," she says, rubbing her eyes with a closed hand, for both the food and the birthday wishes. Not a happy one, no, but she knows what he means. "Not exactly the party one envisions, but I'll take the fact I'm still here as this year's gift."
Not that she universe's idea of a gift is all that great, but next year will be better.
... Hopefully.
Rachel winces softly when she attempts to break the cracker she picks up in half. She is not used to the strength she now has, and it breaks into more pieces than she'd initially thought they would. She picks up another one and starts nibbling on it without attempting to do so again.
She chews quietly on it despite not being very hungry, if only because she knows he'll feel better. Rachel looks down and since he's shifted closer, she notices his arm.
She further quiets, eyebrows knotting into a soft frown.
Her fingers brush lightly against the spot where her nails had been digging into his arm. "I hurt you."
They know each other so well that they do not need words, no.
There's a quiet conversation between them without one word being said out loud. There's relief, love, friendship, and knowing.
"A freight train is an even better descriptor if we're being honest. Maybe a ship or a small planet would work too? Rammed into by a comet," Noah says, and he smiles a little but he doesn't manage to keep the smile for long. It falls into a frown again.
The seriousness remains even if the pain thankfully has eased by quite a lot, even if the transformation is over, and they're now in a recovery period.
It's like he can sense the I'm sorry that she doesn't say, and maybe he can. He shakes his head at her, small fond smile pushing past the frown again.
He couldn't do anything else. There was nowhere else he would have been, and he-- she's fine so he's better even if things are echoing through his head still from what happened. They'll fade.
They'll fade.
You'll be an amazing guardian someday.
Well, maybe they won't all fade.
He swallows some of the guilt rising up in his throat that tightens just slightly as he rests against his knees. "Of course, I stayed. I couldn't have been anywhere else. If I didn't have my mom, you'd have wanted to stay with me, right?"
Noah doesn't have to ask because he already knows.
He smiles a little at the sound of her laughter as quiet as it is, as raspy as it is, it's a relief. One more relief to hear instead of the endless screaming.
He nods in response, feeling his jaw tighten a little, knowing that it could have ended differently. It could have easily ended differently. "It's... the best gift," Noah says. "I got you something too, but... I'll give you some recovery time before I give it to you."
It's all wrapped right now, and well, he wants her to feel better before he gives it to her.
He does feel better now that she's eating some of the cracker though he winces too when the cracker breaks in her hand. It's hard to adjust too. It's really hard to adjust to.
Noah follows her gaze and he pulls back his arm, shaking his head at her. "You should have seen my mom... after mine. She was all bruised up. It's just... it's what happens if someone's near you," he says and then he looks at her, reaching out to touch the bottom of her chin, make her look at him. "Don't feel bad about it, okay? Please. It doesn't even hurt. I didn't even notice it."
He was too worried about her to notice it.
Plus, all the... pain that she doesn't know he can feel too.
He swallows, glancing down between them.
"Are you okay? I mean, really. Really okay? I know it's probably too soon to say, but I had... to ask, you know?"
"Comet definitely works. I feel like being rammed into one would make me burst into stars somehow," she says thoughtfully, and then rolls her eyes at herself as the thought comes to her.
"That's what I thought when I was little. When people died, they became stars."
It made sense to her at the time, and it was comforting in a way, too. Her dad was a star, and she could see him at night if she ever wanted.
As if things are ever that simple.
"Then again, I also thought the Weeping Willow was a tree suffering from chronic depression. I was an odd child." Or maybe she just took things too literally.
She doesn't say the I'm sorry despite sorely feeling it, for all sorts of things. She knows he wouldn't want it, and he knows whether she says it or not, which makes the voicing of it a rather useless thing. "Of course I would. I always hated I wasn't, but I knew I wouldn't be any help and she knew more than I ever could, so..." her voice trails off and she takes a small breath.
Rachel was there for every other moment that followed, but it never felt like enough. It never does feel like enough, not when you know people you love are or have been in pain.
There is the slightest straightening of her back at that. "You got me something? Noah." There's fondness but a reproach there, too. Just being there through it all was more than enough. "... What if giving it to me now might help with the recovery thing?"
There is an innocent look on her face. Now that he did go through the trouble of getting it she might as well have it now, non?
It might make her feel better, okay.
She retrieves her hand when he pulls back his arm, pressing her lips together and placing it back on her lap, gaze dropping down to it. She feels ridiculous that tears are already forming once again at the edges of her eyes, but she tips her chin upward at his nudging.
Her eyes well up but nothing falls, and she doesn't say anything at first.
She only looks at him, feeling younger and more vulnerable than she can remember feeling in a while. "Okay," she whispers when she can find the word, looking down again.
Rachel would be horrified and sick at the thought of him also having felt that transformation. She busies herself with the fringes of the pillow, fingers webbing into the strands of the cushion cover.
At his question, she quiets again. She slips a hand over her hair, twirling it into a knot at her shoulder before letting it drop back down. This is Noah, and she can give him a real answer, but it's hard to piece it together.
It's hard to find words when the experience is so wholly unlike anything else she'd ever felt before.
"...I don't know. I feel really weird. It's like someone was there with me, in my body. I could hear you and I could see you but I couldn't...reach, somehow. It felt alien but today it's kind of like something clicking into place. Was--was it like that for you?"
"That's... giving me an interesting imagery, but I'm glad you didn't burst into stars. I'd still be your friend, but long distance friendships are hard," Noah says with a small smile that becomes more fond when she rolls her eyes at herself.
He shakes his head. "I don't think that's such a bad way to look at it. Who knows? Maybe little you was right. It's not like there's any way to prove it. The afterlife."
No, nothing is really ever so simple as they seem at that age.
"You were unique," Noah fills in for her. "Hey, don't call her odd. I was best friends with that child."
She would never have to say it because he knows her as well as he does. He can feel it in the air between them, and he feels his own apology at the tip of his tongue but doesn't say that either. "I know you would have, but it would have been dangerous for you, and my mom knew-- and then I knew so I'd be here for yours."
Rachel was there for every moment. She did plenty, helping him to feel better, distracting him, talking to him. Even if the moment she came to saw him, it hit. Like that. All into place. But that helped too.
There was no time to worry about who his ward could be, where he'd go, if he'd like them or they'd like him. Because he knew. The biggest fear that came with being a guardian was alleviated in that moment that he looked at her.
"Yes, I got you something. It's your birthday," Noah reminds her with a small smile at the reproachful, fond sound of her voice. "Then I guess I would have to give it to you now."
He walks over to his backpack which is on top of the microwave, unzipping it and pulling out the gift from inside. Noah places it in her hand. Inside of the box, there is a neclace and more importantly a gift card to a local book store that they frequent a lot.
"I'm no good at picking out jewelry but that made me think of you. So feel free to not wear it, but you know... definitely use the card."
Noah is looking at her face when she retrieves her hand, at the way she's pressing her lips together. He swallows tightly, sensing the tears and seeing them when he makes her look at him. They're hard to see.
But he knows that it's... it's good. It's better than her shoving them back down again.
"Okay," he repeats after her, letting the word drift out until it hits her, firmly. He doesn't want her to feel bad about it though he understands. He does. He felt horrible for hurting his mom during his transformation, but then she slapped him out of the guilt. With less actual slapping and more words.
She's dealing with enough without her feeling guilty too for what happened that she couldn't control at all. It would have been worse if he hadn't grabbed hold of her.
Noah is quiet, patient, giving her the chance to think about it until she finds the answer, whatever it is. She can give a real one to him, yes, and the not real ones are hard for him to believe anyway.
But he understands why it'd be hard to describe. He still-- he tried preparing her for this, but he couldn't describe it himself.
"It was... like that for me, yeah. It's a part of you and it's you but it's not at all at the same time. That's the... the angel part of you, the part that feels alien," Noah says softly as he looks over at her again. "But it's right too."
It never lets him feel too alien with it, too apart.
It's not him, but it definitely is him too.
"It feels right at the same time that it feels new. My mom said the transformation is slightly different for everyone, different amount of time, different exact feelings and... all of that. There's enough similarities that we can help each other through it but... it's a very personal experience for each person. That's why it's hard to really describe too. There aren't... words for it."
Rachel actually laughs at that, tired and low-pitched as it may be. "Hard but not impossible. As my best friend, you are expected--nay, obligated--to travel through worlds, across universes, and beyond should I ever become a cluster of stars."
She watches him silently from where she rests, mind whirling faster than she can ever remember it doing. "Do you think there is one? An afterlife."
There's a small, small stirring, an itch in her fingers to record his answer, commit it to memory, but it's not so bad.
It's not anywhere near bad yet.
Another small laugh. "I never said odd was a bad thing. I reject the typical and the strive towards perfection. Besides, you're the one who let that child feed you dirt. You were pretty odd yourself, Evans."
She wouldn't know what on earth he'd be sorry for to begin with. After everything he's done for her, both in the past twelve years and the past thirty-six hours, she cannot fathom what he'd have to be sorry about. "And it wasn't dangerous for you?" she asks with the light arching of her brow. He didn't turn that long ago. He's still just as new at it as the rest of them.
She may not be a guardian, but she's wanted to take care of him in the past, too. He's not so good at that, and she's aware he would rather it be the other way around but still.
She hates she wasn't there to help him in the worst moment of his life.
"I'd say you didn't have to but it would ring hollow when I'm already demanding to see it." Rachel claps her hands lightly together and sits in place, waiting with unconcealed curiosity as he goes to get the present. She bites her lip once it's placed in her lap and lifts her gaze to smile a tiny smile.
Her fingers carefully peel away at the wrapping paper before she opens the box. Her mouth parts slightly in surprise. She'd been expecting the bookstore gift card and not so much the jewelry. Rachel lifts up the necklace while it dangles in between her fingers, marveling at it before she turns to him with an unguarded and delighted expression on her face.
"What are you talking about? I love it and--yes, I will use the card, but I love this, too," she says, resting it against her palm as her fingers trace the edges. She will be wearing it all the time. She inches toward him and lifts the chain his way apologetically. "Help me put it on?"
She could probably clasp it on her own but extending them that far makes them sore. And she could also wait before she puts it on but she doesn't really want to.
Her eyes are welled up, yes, but at the firm tone of his voice she almost laughs again, however tearful. He can be so bossy and final with her sometimes, and whether she'd say it or not, she needs it. She needs someone that fights her on things and isn't afraid to contradict her.
"Okay," she repeats, and this time she sounds a little less guilty and horrible about it, though she can't see how she wouldn't feel that way about hurting him--initial bullying years not withstanding.
Rachel listens to him, without interruption, her eyes open and earnest as she looks back at him.
"It's loud," she says just as softly. The part that feels alien but not too alien, the angel part of her that's right and her but isn't. It's loud. Louder than she expected for it to be, not that she was sure what she was expecting at all. She certainly wasn't expecting so much pain, constantly, for almost two days.
His mother is a very wise woman, so Rachel believes it.
It won't be the same for her as it was for him, as it was for the rest.
Not exactly.
"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense." Rachel falls silent once more, glancing down at her hands. "You'd think with all the words in the English language we'd find some way but there... isn't. But it's like seeing the world for the first time again. Smelling and tasting and hearing it for the first time, too." Rachel tugs him forward onto the bed. "You should try getting some rest. Please? I'll feel bad if you don't."
"I completely believe and agree that I would have an obligation, but I also have no idea how I would actually travel the universe to fall those stars that are you," Noah says with a small laugh of his own as he looks over at her, shaking his head slightly in amusement.
He glances over at her, sensing her gaze on him and wondering how things have changed. He can feel it a little as her guardian but not-- not entirely.
"I like to think there is one," Noah admits, sliding his hand over his arm thoughtfully. "I know it goes against science, and there's no proof of it, but I don't know. I believe it."
He does, because he has to.
It's too hard to think that it all ends when they die, that that's all there is.
He smiles at her, laughing at the memory of his first impression of her. "I did, but you were... very scary. If I didn't eat the dirt, I didn't know what you were going to make me do next, okay? I knew even then. Other people might have underestimated you, but I know you would have tackled me."
Noah wouldn't be able to explain it either so it's for the best that he keeps the sorry to himself. It will never feel like enough, irrational feelings as they may be. It'll never feel like enough. He looks over at her. "If it was, my mom wouldn't have let me come over to help you through it."
Not that his mom could have stopped him.
But that's not the point. His mom likely offered to come over instead, but Noah said no and that he had to be there for it. She taught him well before he came over. "But I'm an angel now so I'm stronger than you would have been if you were there during mine."
Oh, Rachel, you were there during the worst moment of his life because that was earlier. ._.
"Yes, it would ring completely hollow. When I already knew that I didn't have to, I wanted to. Your birthday shouldn't only be a lot of... pain and species change."
Noah is quiet as he watches her open it up. He knew she would expect the book card. It's a gift that she gets frequently and gets a lot of use out of, but he wanted to give her more than that, because she is more than all the reading that she does.
He had no idea when he bought it how important it would become. The books now represent the type of angel she is too, but she's more than that as well. She's so much more than that, and he smiles at the reaction, knowing instantly that she does like it.
"Hey, I don't know anything about jewelry, okay? I don't know if this is good or not or anything, but I'm glad you do like it. I wanted to give you something... more too," Noah says as he reaches out to take the chain of it, unclasping it and leaning forward to place it around her neck and clasp it again.
It hangs perfectly from her neck, and it does look good on her, looks right.
Noah looks at her, aware that sometimes it takes that extra shove, extra push. It's what she needs, and he knows it as her best friend. He doesn't want her feeling badly for it even knowing that she will irrationally so, bu he's relieved to hear less guilt this time.
He nods, letting out a breath.
"It will be. It comes and goes in loudness, but it starts off pretty loud. There will be times when it's going to be the loudest thing... for you. That's what my mom told me. You won't hardly hear yourself in it," Noah said, rubbing the back of his neck and he knows this partly from experience but the guardian for him isn't as separate of an entity. It is him, It's entwined in him and more in him. "And sometimes you need a break from it to... get back on your feet."
It's never exactly the same.
But they can share in their experiences.
"Yeah, it is. It's like you explore everything for the first time, looking around. Your senses are different. Your... thoughts are just a little different sometimes," he says quietly, folding his hands together on his lap until she tugs him forward.
Noah smiles, shaking his head and following where she tugs. He lies down beside her, head resting against the pillow. "Don't feel bad." He still feels like there is more to do. It's the guardian angel in him, and it's still strong, loud after what happened.
He can't admit that though so he shifts on the bed. "I'm not even tired." Wince. LMFAO that was an obvious lie there, Noah. 8|
"You would build a TARDIS for us," Rachel says with a deadpanned expression on her face, well-aware of Doctor Who. Look, if anyone could build a TARDIS someday, it would be Noah with her help. It's not exactly an Ark as Jess likes calling him, but the point stands. "Then you could find me wherever!"
It's strange. Even her focus has channeled into something different. She can't not pay attention to things. Everything. All at once. She's always been nerdy. She writes everything down in a Composition notebook and she devours books like the boys do food.
Angel of knowledge is at the very least fitting.
"I don't think it goes against science," she says gently. She always thinks these things through. It's not that she believes she is wise or anything, but she doesn't believe one necessarily cancels out the other. "I believe they go hand in hand. We need science to explain life's mysteries so they are no longer mystery. And one's beliefs take over where science may fall short."
There aren't answers for everything, much as she'd like that.
She'd like to think her father is in some wonderful kind of afterlife. She's not religious, but she has a lot of faith. In people, in the world around her, in the possibility of more after death. Whatever that may mean.
"I think I would've tackled you to the sandbox, yeah, crushing everyone's sandcastles as I went. Then I'd have made you eat sand, though I'm not sure which would've been preferable." Dirt or sand. The logical answer is neither, they are not edible.
Rachel has no answer to that. She's not exactly surprised Noah's mom gave him permission. His parents have known her forever, and they likely felt sorry for her, being somewhat in-the-know when it comes to her mom and the problems they have.
If she'd had her dad, things might be very different, but her dad's gone.
Rachel gives him a look that's still half-fond, but also half-chastizing when he says he doesn't know anything about jewelry. "Maybe not. But you know everything about me. And I do. I love it. I'll always wear it. Thank you," she says, quieting as he leans forward and clasps it over her neck. She looks downward, removing the hair that threatens to spill over, her fingers lightly touching the wings.
And she opens her mouth as if to say something else, but she finds the words don't come.
There is something very fitting about it, especially after last night.
Something that needs to be destroyed before it can rise from the ashes again.
That's kind of how her body felt like yesterday. Destroyed.
Rachel is careful about how she words things. She is aware, as aware as she can be, of how different life will be from now on. But it's nothing her best friends haven't been able to do for themselves. She wouldn't want to demean that somehow by complaining.
Everyone has their lot in life and they got theirs. She is scared, though. Scared she's no longer human, scared they'll lose their minds someday, scared that something will take over again the way it did once she got her wings and the lights were on but no one, no one was home. "How do you take a break from something you are?" she asks almost inaudibly.
Is it even possible?
Rachel nods wordlessly at how he puts it. It does feel like even thoughts come differently. "I don't want to change... too much," she finally admits, and it's like her chest both tightens and eases at the same time once the admission comes. "That I forget."
His Don't feel bad is swiftly counterattacked with an equally persistent, "Don't lie."
She saw that wince. She knows he is tired. It would be physically impossible not to. "It's okay to be tired. Or someone keeps telling me," she says, lowering her head on the pillow opposite his, shifting on her side to face him.
"Yes, let me get right on that, Rachel," Noah says with a tiny, amused smile. Baw, they probably have watched Doctor Who together that is ADORABLE. It totally would be the two of them that could do it. They're geniuses. :x "Wherever, whenever." We're meant to be together. Noah doesn't know that song, but the narration thought of it automatically. >>
It is a very fitting Calling for her, which is good. It won't-- she won't have to worry about any huge personality shift or trying to adjust to a whole new side of herself.
This Calling fits in well with what she already was like in som e ways, but it's just going to enhance it tenfold or more.
Noah looks over at her, and there's a soft smile at her answer as it makes a lot of sense to him. "Yeah, I guess that's right. I hadn't thought of it that way." It makes a lot of sense to him though. "I think that's one answer that science will never be able to have, one mystery that remains unsolved. Maybe it's supposed to be that way."
He does believe something happens to them, but he doesn't know what yet. He kind of likes the idea of them dying to become stars in the sky, watching over those who come next.
"Yeah, I knew it. See, I was just saving myself more trouble down the road. It was less of a letting, more of a Dear God, if I don't do this, what will she do next?" Noah is obviously teasing though since he loves her, and he nudges her leg, smirking. "I feel like the dirt was actually better than the sand would have been. Don't know why though."
They are both very inedible.
His parents view her as a daughter of their own. It's why his mother wanted him to be there, wanted to be there herself for it, but Noah insisted that it be him, that Rachel would try to hold herself together even with Mrs. Evans. It had to be him.
It has to be me, mom.
"I do know you very well," Noah admits quietly as he looks at the necklace settled against her, and he is thinking of last night as well, the pain that she went through. Like being born through fire, torn through a storm to come out something new on the other side. "It reminded me of you."
It's the reason that he chose it.
It is more fitting now than he ever imagined it could be.
But he's glad that she likes it.
Oh, Rachel, it wouldn't be complaining at all. It wouldn't demean anything if she did do that. Noah would understand completely, and he feels he has it easier than almost everyone else with his calling especially considering the ward that he has.
Not that anyone knows about that.
Noah lets out a breath. It's a hard question, but it's an important one to answer. He leans against his knee, looking down at the sheet. "It's like... whatever it is that you're doing, that the angel part of you wants you to do, you take a step back from that. You do something else, distract yourself, get distance from that project or that... thing. Like with Jess and Ben." It's not a Calling for Ben but same basic concept. "They're surrounded by emotion all the time. If it gets too strong, they have to take a step away from what is pushing at them. So like for you, you're going tow ant to learn things, set yourself into specific projects, you'd need breaks, distance from those projects or you lose yourself in them."
That's how powerful the calling is.
"It's who you are, but it's not... all of you. Too."
It's so hard to describe. Noah looks over at her, and he-- he says the first words that come to mind even if he's not sure they're true. "You won't," he says. "You won't forget."
There's no way to know anything for sure. He can't see the future, but as long as he is around, he'll fight against it.
Noah smirks a little at her. "I didn't want you to feel bad if I admitted I am tired even if it's obvious."
He's tired on more levels than he cares to admit, and he stares up at the ceiling before he glances sideways at her with a small smile. "I know it is. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was more important than sleep."
"I will let you. I realize you need my permission to do these things, so consider the permission granted," Rachel says, and she's closed her eyes but she is not falling asleep at all, grinning softly as the conversation floats over to her. She has found it's easier if she focuses on adjusting to one sense at a time.
The sense of hearing. Their voices are sharper, clearer somehow, as if the volume on the television has been elevated, and they are already speaking softly as it is.
They would totally, totally watch Dr. Who, and Rachel would think Martha Jones was made of awesome, made only more awesome by the fact she lives in Chicago. They need to stumble on a blue box that takes them somewhere really random now. And that's the deal, my dear. 8|
"Maybe it is. Maybe the point isn't really finding the answers so much as living them. I do believe in the final moments it all clicks into place. Maybe I'm too idealistic that way, but I'd rather give the world too much credit than not enough of it." She doesn't know why it isn't the same when it comes to herself and her trust with other people, except that it isn't.
Rachel still has her eyes closed, but the grin widens and she nudges his leg right back. "Perhaps it was a texture thing? The texture of sand seems like the worse of two evils somehow. At least I'd never make you eat dirt now."
Which isn't to say she might not get the urge to tackle someone sometimes.
She loves his parents. She loves his parents but she really loves his mom. Whenever they've had Rachel over for dinner, she'll get Rachel second servings and touch her hair and fuss over how skinny she is. Rachel doesn't know why that, of all things, makes her feel like crying sometimes when she isn't prone to tears easily, but it does.
Because it's nice.
And as much as she loves them and has known them for literally forever, it's true that Rachel would've held back. She doesn't know why she is wired to be that way. She isn't a disingenuous person at all. She believes strongly in never being anything other than who she is.
But when it comes to showing how hurt she may be, it's almost instinct to not let it show.
To be stronger, to be braver, to be infinitely more put-together.
It is different with him. She's always rationalized it to be because they've known each other for longest, because they have been best friends for longest. There might be a part of her that's aware that isn't the case, but it doesn't change the fact it is different.
It reminded me of you. She'd still been looking down at the necklace at his words, but once they reach her, she lifts her gaze upward to look at him. And she does something she'd been wanting to do since she woke up and saw him.
Her arms slip around his neck and she hugs him tightly, the necklace resting against her chest at the mild pressure.
"Oh." Rachel has always figured Jess and Ben have it more difficult htna anyone else in the group. The emotions are constant, everywhere they go, there's no really turning it off. In comparison, she will have to struggle differently and not to the same degree. "I can do that. I think. If not I know you'll boss me around until I do. It's kind of like when I want to keep jotting down notes but my hand has a cramp and I know I shouldn't."
The urge to keep jotting things down will be stronger now, and the hand cramps will be more intense, and so will the need to keep going.
But she will try taking a step back.
"I believe you," she says simply. Whether it's true or not. They won't forget.
Rachel shakes her head. "You'd feel bad too, if the roles were reversed. And I wouldn't want you to feel bad but that wouldn't stop you. It's what makes us Rachel and Noah, I guess."
She smiles back at him, though it's more with her eyes than her lips. "I'm okay. I'm a lot more okay than I thought I would be. I know you don't want a thank you but just let me say it because it's important for me to do it, okay? Thank you for taking care of me."
"I do need your permission. Thank you so much for finally giving it to me. It's what I've been waiting for this whole time or a TARDIS would already be in the making," Noah informs her with a small smile that widens just slightly when he finishes the sentence.
He doesn't mind at all that she is talking to him with her eyes closed. She is talking to him, and in his mind, that is big. It's something important and good. There's no pain here, and the relief at that is nearly enough to make it hard to sit up.
BAW, Rachel. ;; That is awesome that she would love Martha Jones. They should meet in game, okay? :x AND OMG, they should go into a blue box that leads them on an adventure. It would be so much fun.
"I don't think you're too idealistic. If you are, I guess I am too. I like to believe the same thing," Noah says with a small smile, and it's easier to believe it knowing that she agrees. She is the smartest, wisest person that he knows in his opinion, and he would trust that.
He nods at that. It seems like a good theory. "I think that was it. There's something about sand that seems like it would be... a lot rougher," he says, making a face at the thought, not that he really remembers what dirt tastes like all that much.
It's not too hard for him to imagine swallowing sand though. He has no idea what that says about him. "Thank you. I appreciate that you would no longer make me eat dirt after all this time."
BAW, Rachel. It's really sweet to think of her with the Evans' family but especially with Mrs. Evans, okay? She deserves to have that kind of good influence in her life, and Noah is glad they could be friends, glad he could bring her into his family in a sense.
However, he does know that she would never be able to stop herself from trying to pull back with the hurt and the pain in front of them. It's been hardwired into her for whatever reason though she certainly wouldn't find anyone else being vulnerable and open to be terrible.
It's how she is, and Noah gets that.
He really understands it which is why he told his mom that she shouldn't come over. It should be him and Rachel, and he wasn't about to leave her alone with it.
There was no way in hell that he could have even if he wasn't her guardian. There's just... no way. Noah doesn't know the reasons why though he has rationalized it along the same lines. They have known each other longest, been best friends since such a young age.
However, it is so much more than that.
The more hasn't been acknowledged by him, by either of them.
But it's different and it's for more reasons than the fact they've known each other so long.
Noah doesn't hesitate. When she hugs him, he hugs her back, just as tightly. They're both stronger now, but neither of them crush the other one in that hug. They hug like they did before they were angels like they ahve for a long time. That hasn't changed at all.
So much has, but it doesn't feel different, hugging hre.
"I will definitely be bossing you around frequently. You dont' have to worry about that," Noah says with a small smile as he looks over at her. "I would kind of do that anyway, but yeah, that's what it'll be like but more intense and the whole of you will.. forget about sleep, eating. Get lost in the project basically."
It's almost impossible to resist. The angel sees no reason to resist even if the person is tired and hungry and getting lost in the notes.
He'll watch out for her, make sure she steps back when it's necessary.
Noah smiles at her when she says she believes him. It helps. It helps and it hurts, because he knows he's lying to her. Not about that, but there is a big lie, betrayal.
"Okay, I'll admit that I would feel bad too. It's irrational, and I know I can't make you not feel bad, but I wish you wouldn't anyway," Noah says quietly as he looks at her and then he laughs. "yes, that along with everything else makes us Rachel and Noah."
He sees the smile even if it's only in her eyes. It's enough. It's more than enough. "It's-- I don't need it, but I understand that you need to say it so I'm not... going to take that from you," Noah says quietly as he looks at her. "I'm glad you're more okay than you thought you'd be. You're.. welcome? It's hard for me to say it, because... I was just being your best friend."
Funny how there are moments when that phrase doesn't seem enough.
"You're welcome. I figured it was time. I was only holding off until I was sure you were ready. Fly along now, grasshopper, and build me a TARDIS," Rachel says. Her eyes may be closed, but she hears the smile in his voice, and it makes her own smile deepen in place. There isn't any pain, as long as there aren't abrupt movements and the like.
The only real area where there still seems to be soreness is her shoulder blades, and she took aspirin for that once he brought her the water and crackers. She'll need bedrest for a while, but in comparison, it's all so subtle she doesn't notice. It is nice to be able to focus and have a conversation and not just be endlessly waiting for that moment the pain will stop.
The better question is, why would she not love Martha Jones? And thus, they will meet in game for it is necessary.
"The world needs its idealists! To see it not only as it is but what it could be. It'd be nice, anyway. Once it's all said and done, you're given the reasons why." Why things happened the way they did, why they got these Callings, why they've lost what they lost and ended up where they ended up. There has to be some sort of greater plan she just isn't aware of.
Rachel laughs softly, and she opens her eyes in time to see him make that face. "All this time I should've been making people eat sand instead," she says with the shake of her head. Since it'd be the more evil thing to do, apparently. "I missed the boat on that one."
There's no way to travel back in time and further secure the reputation.
It says he really was a very, very odd boy and thus got along with her, as she was a very, very odd girl. "Of course I wouldn't. Regression at this point would just be unseemly."
It is super sweet and Mrs. Evans has no doubt been a positive influence in her life. They've all kind of adopted Noah and Lex's friends into the family, in a sense, and they have known Rachel since she was a very little girl. If she really needed advice or guidance in the female sense and her mother wasn't around for it (and she usually wasn't and isn't) it's Mrs. Evans that would notice and help her.
Since Rachel is too proud to really ask for help a lot of the time.
But it does answer to a very basic need of hers, of all of theirs really, to have that familial kind of stability they can't find in their own homes.
She knows she'd be a very different person without him and his family in her life for so long.
It has not been acknowledge and she can't see how or why it would. There is practically nothing they can't talk about, but this isn't really something to talk about, so much as something that is whether they realize it or not, and it makes more sense at the time to believe it's just so many years of knowing each other.
Nothing needs to change.
The hug doesn't crush her in the slightest, despite her holding on tightly, face buried into his neck. There's relief that continues to flood through her, the more she awakens and the more it settles in that it's over, it's really over, and she's still here and it's going to be okay somehow.
"I will get to do bossing of my own, you know." Not that Noah, build me a TARDIS is an actual demand. The smile falls a little as she listens to him, mostly because it's a serious matter and she is paying attention. It sounds scary. Losing yourself so entirely to it if you don't step back, if someone isn't there nudging you to step back. "I don't want to get lost at all, but I know. I knew it would be hard if I ever did...become an angel."
It's weird to say, weirder to realize and think to herself. I'm not human anymore.
And if she knew the truth about what he was keeping from her in regards to his own Calling, she'd worry and wonder at what that means for them.
Does he need a break from her? Does he lose himself in being a guardian that he'd need a step back from her and their friendship? Rachel always believes him and takes his word at face value. There isn't anything he's ever said to her that's been a lie, though she is someone that believes omissions are lies. He's never said a lie to her, though, and she trusts him more than she does anyone else in the world.
"It's not forever," she says quietly, throwing his words back at him. Even the not-so-good things, like feeling pain or feeling bad, it's not forever. "I just don't like hurting you, even if you didn't notice. That's more than understandable, but it won't be forever. Promise."
She looks back at him from her position on the bed, hand curled up at her chest. "You don't have to say it," she answers after a moment of silence, understanding why it feels that way. Understanding why he is how he is. "You don't have to give me an answer. Just let me give it from time to time."
Best friend doesn't seem like enough. Thank you doesn't, either. "Not everyone stays," is what she says instead. "But I knew you would."
Rachel lifts up the quilt and drapes it over the both of them. "Now will you rest a little?"
"Right now? You want to me to fly along right now and make you your TARDIS? You are demanding. I don't even have any of the parts ready," Noah says but he's smiling still since they're obviously teasing. It's so good to hear her without that pain in her voice. He is focusing on the sound of it, the sound of the smile in her voice and letting himself just... hear that.
She'll need bed rest, but the worst of it is over and it is so much easier to breathe, having seen her awake and okay and not in too much pain.
That is a very, very good question. They will definitely meet in game along with many others, and it will be adorable and awesome, and the narration will squee like a ridiculous person. ;;
"I agree completely. It's okay to be realistic to a certain extent, and it's important, but you don't have some ideals, some dreams... you'd risk getting... lost," Noah says, and he would really like to think that at the end of the road, in the final moments, they have clarity. He likes to think of death that way, and maybe he has to because of how much death they're all surrounded with.
In this city, it can feel endless.
Noah laughs when she says that she should have used sand all along. He shakes his head. "...damn," he says with a small smile as he looks down at his hands. "Though you know, if you'd made me eat sand instead, we might not have ended up being best friends so you should be grateful for your dirt forcing ways."
Since sand is the eviler of the two options.
"It would be very unseemly. There'll be no regression for either of us or for anyone else," he says and then points vaguely in a direction ahead of them both,on the other side of her bed. They can't see what's coming, but they've survived their transformations so there's only one way to go. "Straight ahead."
The Evans family has been so good for so many of them, and Noah has been really happy to be a part of his family because of it. He knows how they've been a good influence on Rachel's life. After Seth's dad had to keep his distance more often than not, they have him over for dinner whenever they can and have him spend the night so he's not sleeping alone in his house.
They do the same for Rachel and for Jess, and Ben's family is awesome too. There's no hatred there. They take in those that need it, and they give them what kids need, encouragement, belief, stability, and love. It's really powerful for all of them to be surrounded by.
They would all be so different without this group, without the Evans family there.
Noah doesn't think about it often because it's hard to imagine how different they all could be, but... he is grateful. Endlessly so.
Nothing needs to change, no.
And yet there's so much more.
He breathes in, tightening the hug for a moment and realizing with her that she is alive, that she is okay. The relief that he feels is his own and hers along side it. His hands rest against her back, and he rests his chin on her shoulder.
"Yes, I know. You already have," Noah says with a small smile though he realizes the TARDIS building was not actually an order, no. It is serious. Everything changes but not everything at the same time. It's so impossible to explain. "It's hard to have a power, but harder when the calling is involved. Because there's that other... voice... but it's more than a voice. I don't know. It's... it is really hard."
Noah thinks it is easier for him than for most others as he just has to protect one person. He wouldn't need a break from her, not that she knows. He would just need reminders to take care of himself if he were ever so wrapped up in taking care of her that he lost himself, but that didn't happen yet.
Maybe it's because they're best friends too that he can keep hold of the Noah even while being in full out guardian mode for her. Either way, she is reminding him now to rest and he can rest now knowing that she is alright. She's as alright as she can be and better than she thought she would be. He can feel it, and he senses it in her too.
He smiles a little when she throws his words back at him. It is appropriate, very appropriate. "Okay, not forever," he says. "It's understandable. I wouldn't like hurting you either, just like you wouldn't want me feeling bad. See what happens there? It just... circles on like that, but not forever. Okay."
Noah does get it. He looks at her, taking in a breath and looking down for a moment. "Okay," Noah says quietly. "You can give it whenever you need to, but it's never... necessary for me to hear."
It never could be enough, but this may be the first time he is realizing it fully, completely. Best friend isn't enough. "Of course I would."
He laughs again at the question, already shutting his eyes. "Okay. You're okay, I'm okay, and I'm going to... sleep... I think." Yes, that would be the exhaustion sliding in over him, and he stretches in place before curling over on his side and promptly passing out.
Sleep overtakes him, and it's comfortable. It's relaxed and secure because she's alive and beside him.
Everything shifted even what had stayed the same. It shifted into something new. Sensations were different. Strength was different. He had more of it than he was used to, right at his fingertips. His body was different. It was a big shift, took time to get used to walking because even that felt different.
He senses her relief. It almost makes him smile again, but he stops it.
Noah is grateful that he can be a comfort considering everything that's happened. The worst of it is over. She'll still be in pain, but it'll be nothing in comparison to what she just went through.
He smiles back at her, sensing the warmth in it, the reality of it, and it relieves him even more. Noah shifts forward on the bed until he's closer to her, and it's good to see her alive and not... not in so much pain.
Not screaming. Not crying. His chest eases further.
"I think that's the best description of what that's like," Noah admits quietly as he looks at her. He never wants to drink either. Never. But run over by a truck, yeah. It sounds about right.
She is alive.
God, she is alive. Noah is so grateful for that. There aren't words for it, honestly. He could protest her gentle accusation, but he knows that she knows and he can't... exactly lie. Even if he could, he wouldn't' be able to lie to her.
"I couldn't," he admits softly instead, tilting his head to the side a bit and taking in a deep breath. "Not until I knew. Not until I saw you again. Awake."
Awake and not in pain. Like Rachel again.
He wanted to talk to her like this.
"I have crackers and water. You should try eating, drinking something." There's a slight, slight pause. "...happy birthday by the way."
If it can be called that. A happy one.
It's not and he knows that.
Reply
She has learned that after a certain amount of years of knowing someone, you can actually have a conversation with them without speaking.
"Yeah, definitely. A truck or maybe a freight train," she says almost inaudibly, hand running up and down her arm idly. She is colder to the touch than she used to be. She looks up at him too, at what he says, and the seriousness of the past night hasn't escaped her notice.
It's not something she could ever forget.
I'm sorry is on the tip of her tongue to say, but she swallows it back down despite the guilt settling into her stomach in the form of a knot. She knows she scared him, and he hasn't slept in over a day becasue he's been taking care of her instead, and she certainly never wanted him to see something like that.
She'd known it would be bad but she'd never realized how bad.
"I'm glad you stayed," she says instead, her hand slipping over her arm and up her back tentatively. She is sore all over, but compared to the past thirty-six hours, it's virtually nothing. Her hands drop back to her lap soundlessly, and she keeps looking at them.
It's all shifted in a way she can't quite explain. Even her fingertips.
Rachel laughs almost inaudibly, her voice raspy to her own ears, and she takes a sip of water. It hurts some to swallow it down. It's a miracle her vocal chords didn't burst or something with all the screaming.
"Thank you," she says, rubbing her eyes with a closed hand, for both the food and the birthday wishes. Not a happy one, no, but she knows what he means. "Not exactly the party one envisions, but I'll take the fact I'm still here as this year's gift."
Not that she universe's idea of a gift is all that great, but next year will be better.
... Hopefully.
Rachel winces softly when she attempts to break the cracker she picks up in half. She is not used to the strength she now has, and it breaks into more pieces than she'd initially thought they would. She picks up another one and starts nibbling on it without attempting to do so again.
She chews quietly on it despite not being very hungry, if only because she knows he'll feel better. Rachel looks down and since he's shifted closer, she notices his arm.
She further quiets, eyebrows knotting into a soft frown.
Her fingers brush lightly against the spot where her nails had been digging into his arm. "I hurt you."
Reply
There's a quiet conversation between them without one word being said out loud. There's relief, love, friendship, and knowing.
"A freight train is an even better descriptor if we're being honest. Maybe a ship or a small planet would work too? Rammed into by a comet," Noah says, and he smiles a little but he doesn't manage to keep the smile for long. It falls into a frown again.
The seriousness remains even if the pain thankfully has eased by quite a lot, even if the transformation is over, and they're now in a recovery period.
It's like he can sense the I'm sorry that she doesn't say, and maybe he can. He shakes his head at her, small fond smile pushing past the frown again.
He couldn't do anything else. There was nowhere else he would have been, and he-- she's fine so he's better even if things are echoing through his head still from what happened. They'll fade.
They'll fade.
You'll be an amazing guardian someday.
Well, maybe they won't all fade.
He swallows some of the guilt rising up in his throat that tightens just slightly as he rests against his knees. "Of course, I stayed. I couldn't have been anywhere else. If I didn't have my mom, you'd have wanted to stay with me, right?"
Noah doesn't have to ask because he already knows.
He smiles a little at the sound of her laughter as quiet as it is, as raspy as it is, it's a relief. One more relief to hear instead of the endless screaming.
He nods in response, feeling his jaw tighten a little, knowing that it could have ended differently. It could have easily ended differently. "It's... the best gift," Noah says. "I got you something too, but... I'll give you some recovery time before I give it to you."
It's all wrapped right now, and well, he wants her to feel better before he gives it to her.
He does feel better now that she's eating some of the cracker though he winces too when the cracker breaks in her hand. It's hard to adjust too. It's really hard to adjust to.
Noah follows her gaze and he pulls back his arm, shaking his head at her. "You should have seen my mom... after mine. She was all bruised up. It's just... it's what happens if someone's near you," he says and then he looks at her, reaching out to touch the bottom of her chin, make her look at him. "Don't feel bad about it, okay? Please. It doesn't even hurt. I didn't even notice it."
He was too worried about her to notice it.
Plus, all the... pain that she doesn't know he can feel too.
He swallows, glancing down between them.
"Are you okay? I mean, really. Really okay? I know it's probably too soon to say, but I had... to ask, you know?"
Reply
"That's what I thought when I was little. When people died, they became stars."
It made sense to her at the time, and it was comforting in a way, too. Her dad was a star, and she could see him at night if she ever wanted.
As if things are ever that simple.
"Then again, I also thought the Weeping Willow was a tree suffering from chronic depression. I was an odd child." Or maybe she just took things too literally.
She doesn't say the I'm sorry despite sorely feeling it, for all sorts of things. She knows he wouldn't want it, and he knows whether she says it or not, which makes the voicing of it a rather useless thing. "Of course I would. I always hated I wasn't, but I knew I wouldn't be any help and she knew more than I ever could, so..." her voice trails off and she takes a small breath.
Rachel was there for every other moment that followed, but it never felt like enough. It never does feel like enough, not when you know people you love are or have been in pain.
There is the slightest straightening of her back at that. "You got me something? Noah." There's fondness but a reproach there, too. Just being there through it all was more than enough. "... What if giving it to me now might help with the recovery thing?"
There is an innocent look on her face. Now that he did go through the trouble of getting it she might as well have it now, non?
It might make her feel better, okay.
She retrieves her hand when he pulls back his arm, pressing her lips together and placing it back on her lap, gaze dropping down to it. She feels ridiculous that tears are already forming once again at the edges of her eyes, but she tips her chin upward at his nudging.
Her eyes well up but nothing falls, and she doesn't say anything at first.
She only looks at him, feeling younger and more vulnerable than she can remember feeling in a while. "Okay," she whispers when she can find the word, looking down again.
Rachel would be horrified and sick at the thought of him also having felt that transformation. She busies herself with the fringes of the pillow, fingers webbing into the strands of the cushion cover.
At his question, she quiets again. She slips a hand over her hair, twirling it into a knot at her shoulder before letting it drop back down. This is Noah, and she can give him a real answer, but it's hard to piece it together.
It's hard to find words when the experience is so wholly unlike anything else she'd ever felt before.
"...I don't know. I feel really weird. It's like someone was there with me, in my body. I could hear you and I could see you but I couldn't...reach, somehow. It felt alien but today it's kind of like something clicking into place. Was--was it like that for you?"
Reply
He shakes his head. "I don't think that's such a bad way to look at it. Who knows? Maybe little you was right. It's not like there's any way to prove it. The afterlife."
No, nothing is really ever so simple as they seem at that age.
"You were unique," Noah fills in for her. "Hey, don't call her odd. I was best friends with that child."
She would never have to say it because he knows her as well as he does. He can feel it in the air between them, and he feels his own apology at the tip of his tongue but doesn't say that either. "I know you would have, but it would have been dangerous for you, and my mom knew-- and then I knew so I'd be here for yours."
Rachel was there for every moment. She did plenty, helping him to feel better, distracting him, talking to him. Even if the moment she came to saw him, it hit. Like that. All into place. But that helped too.
There was no time to worry about who his ward could be, where he'd go, if he'd like them or they'd like him. Because he knew. The biggest fear that came with being a guardian was alleviated in that moment that he looked at her.
"Yes, I got you something. It's your birthday," Noah reminds her with a small smile at the reproachful, fond sound of her voice. "Then I guess I would have to give it to you now."
He walks over to his backpack which is on top of the microwave, unzipping it and pulling out the gift from inside. Noah places it in her hand. Inside of the box, there is a neclace and more importantly a gift card to a local book store that they frequent a lot.
"I'm no good at picking out jewelry but that made me think of you. So feel free to not wear it, but you know... definitely use the card."
Noah is looking at her face when she retrieves her hand, at the way she's pressing her lips together. He swallows tightly, sensing the tears and seeing them when he makes her look at him. They're hard to see.
But he knows that it's... it's good. It's better than her shoving them back down again.
"Okay," he repeats after her, letting the word drift out until it hits her, firmly. He doesn't want her to feel bad about it though he understands. He does. He felt horrible for hurting his mom during his transformation, but then she slapped him out of the guilt. With less actual slapping and more words.
She's dealing with enough without her feeling guilty too for what happened that she couldn't control at all. It would have been worse if he hadn't grabbed hold of her.
Noah is quiet, patient, giving her the chance to think about it until she finds the answer, whatever it is. She can give a real one to him, yes, and the not real ones are hard for him to believe anyway.
But he understands why it'd be hard to describe. He still-- he tried preparing her for this, but he couldn't describe it himself.
"It was... like that for me, yeah. It's a part of you and it's you but it's not at all at the same time. That's the... the angel part of you, the part that feels alien," Noah says softly as he looks over at her again. "But it's right too."
It never lets him feel too alien with it, too apart.
It's not him, but it definitely is him too.
"It feels right at the same time that it feels new. My mom said the transformation is slightly different for everyone, different amount of time, different exact feelings and... all of that. There's enough similarities that we can help each other through it but... it's a very personal experience for each person. That's why it's hard to really describe too. There aren't... words for it."
Reply
She watches him silently from where she rests, mind whirling faster than she can ever remember it doing. "Do you think there is one? An afterlife."
There's a small, small stirring, an itch in her fingers to record his answer, commit it to memory, but it's not so bad.
It's not anywhere near bad yet.
Another small laugh. "I never said odd was a bad thing. I reject the typical and the strive towards perfection. Besides, you're the one who let that child feed you dirt. You were pretty odd yourself, Evans."
She wouldn't know what on earth he'd be sorry for to begin with. After everything he's done for her, both in the past twelve years and the past thirty-six hours, she cannot fathom what he'd have to be sorry about. "And it wasn't dangerous for you?" she asks with the light arching of her brow. He didn't turn that long ago. He's still just as new at it as the rest of them.
She may not be a guardian, but she's wanted to take care of him in the past, too. He's not so good at that, and she's aware he would rather it be the other way around but still.
She hates she wasn't there to help him in the worst moment of his life.
"I'd say you didn't have to but it would ring hollow when I'm already demanding to see it." Rachel claps her hands lightly together and sits in place, waiting with unconcealed curiosity as he goes to get the present. She bites her lip once it's placed in her lap and lifts her gaze to smile a tiny smile.
Her fingers carefully peel away at the wrapping paper before she opens the box. Her mouth parts slightly in surprise. She'd been expecting the bookstore gift card and not so much the jewelry. Rachel lifts up the necklace while it dangles in between her fingers, marveling at it before she turns to him with an unguarded and delighted expression on her face.
"What are you talking about? I love it and--yes, I will use the card, but I love this, too," she says, resting it against her palm as her fingers trace the edges. She will be wearing it all the time. She inches toward him and lifts the chain his way apologetically. "Help me put it on?"
She could probably clasp it on her own but extending them that far makes them sore. And she could also wait before she puts it on but she doesn't really want to.
Her eyes are welled up, yes, but at the firm tone of his voice she almost laughs again, however tearful. He can be so bossy and final with her sometimes, and whether she'd say it or not, she needs it. She needs someone that fights her on things and isn't afraid to contradict her.
"Okay," she repeats, and this time she sounds a little less guilty and horrible about it, though she can't see how she wouldn't feel that way about hurting him--initial bullying years not withstanding.
Rachel listens to him, without interruption, her eyes open and earnest as she looks back at him.
"It's loud," she says just as softly. The part that feels alien but not too alien, the angel part of her that's right and her but isn't. It's loud. Louder than she expected for it to be, not that she was sure what she was expecting at all. She certainly wasn't expecting so much pain, constantly, for almost two days.
His mother is a very wise woman, so Rachel believes it.
It won't be the same for her as it was for him, as it was for the rest.
Not exactly.
"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense." Rachel falls silent once more, glancing down at her hands. "You'd think with all the words in the English language we'd find some way but there... isn't. But it's like seeing the world for the first time again. Smelling and tasting and hearing it for the first time, too." Rachel tugs him forward onto the bed. "You should try getting some rest. Please? I'll feel bad if you don't."
Reply
He glances over at her, sensing her gaze on him and wondering how things have changed. He can feel it a little as her guardian but not-- not entirely.
"I like to think there is one," Noah admits, sliding his hand over his arm thoughtfully. "I know it goes against science, and there's no proof of it, but I don't know. I believe it."
He does, because he has to.
It's too hard to think that it all ends when they die, that that's all there is.
He smiles at her, laughing at the memory of his first impression of her. "I did, but you were... very scary. If I didn't eat the dirt, I didn't know what you were going to make me do next, okay? I knew even then. Other people might have underestimated you, but I know you would have tackled me."
Noah wouldn't be able to explain it either so it's for the best that he keeps the sorry to himself. It will never feel like enough, irrational feelings as they may be. It'll never feel like enough. He looks over at her. "If it was, my mom wouldn't have let me come over to help you through it."
Not that his mom could have stopped him.
But that's not the point. His mom likely offered to come over instead, but Noah said no and that he had to be there for it. She taught him well before he came over. "But I'm an angel now so I'm stronger than you would have been if you were there during mine."
Oh, Rachel, you were there during the worst moment of his life because that was earlier. ._.
"Yes, it would ring completely hollow. When I already knew that I didn't have to, I wanted to. Your birthday shouldn't only be a lot of... pain and species change."
Noah is quiet as he watches her open it up. He knew she would expect the book card. It's a gift that she gets frequently and gets a lot of use out of, but he wanted to give her more than that, because she is more than all the reading that she does.
He had no idea when he bought it how important it would become. The books now represent the type of angel she is too, but she's more than that as well. She's so much more than that, and he smiles at the reaction, knowing instantly that she does like it.
"Hey, I don't know anything about jewelry, okay? I don't know if this is good or not or anything, but I'm glad you do like it. I wanted to give you something... more too," Noah says as he reaches out to take the chain of it, unclasping it and leaning forward to place it around her neck and clasp it again.
It hangs perfectly from her neck, and it does look good on her, looks right.
Noah looks at her, aware that sometimes it takes that extra shove, extra push. It's what she needs, and he knows it as her best friend. He doesn't want her feeling badly for it even knowing that she will irrationally so, bu he's relieved to hear less guilt this time.
He nods, letting out a breath.
"It will be. It comes and goes in loudness, but it starts off pretty loud. There will be times when it's going to be the loudest thing... for you. That's what my mom told me. You won't hardly hear yourself in it," Noah said, rubbing the back of his neck and he knows this partly from experience but the guardian for him isn't as separate of an entity. It is him, It's entwined in him and more in him. "And sometimes you need a break from it to... get back on your feet."
It's never exactly the same.
But they can share in their experiences.
"Yeah, it is. It's like you explore everything for the first time, looking around. Your senses are different. Your... thoughts are just a little different sometimes," he says quietly, folding his hands together on his lap until she tugs him forward.
Noah smiles, shaking his head and following where she tugs. He lies down beside her, head resting against the pillow. "Don't feel bad." He still feels like there is more to do. It's the guardian angel in him, and it's still strong, loud after what happened.
He can't admit that though so he shifts on the bed. "I'm not even tired." Wince. LMFAO that was an obvious lie there, Noah. 8|
Reply
It's strange. Even her focus has channeled into something different. She can't not pay attention to things. Everything. All at once. She's always been nerdy. She writes everything down in a Composition notebook and she devours books like the boys do food.
Angel of knowledge is at the very least fitting.
"I don't think it goes against science," she says gently. She always thinks these things through. It's not that she believes she is wise or anything, but she doesn't believe one necessarily cancels out the other. "I believe they go hand in hand. We need science to explain life's mysteries so they are no longer mystery. And one's beliefs take over where science may fall short."
There aren't answers for everything, much as she'd like that.
She'd like to think her father is in some wonderful kind of afterlife. She's not religious, but she has a lot of faith. In people, in the world around her, in the possibility of more after death. Whatever that may mean.
"I think I would've tackled you to the sandbox, yeah, crushing everyone's sandcastles as I went. Then I'd have made you eat sand, though I'm not sure which would've been preferable." Dirt or sand. The logical answer is neither, they are not edible.
Rachel has no answer to that. She's not exactly surprised Noah's mom gave him permission. His parents have known her forever, and they likely felt sorry for her, being somewhat in-the-know when it comes to her mom and the problems they have.
If she'd had her dad, things might be very different, but her dad's gone.
Rachel gives him a look that's still half-fond, but also half-chastizing when he says he doesn't know anything about jewelry. "Maybe not. But you know everything about me. And I do. I love it. I'll always wear it. Thank you," she says, quieting as he leans forward and clasps it over her neck. She looks downward, removing the hair that threatens to spill over, her fingers lightly touching the wings.
And she opens her mouth as if to say something else, but she finds the words don't come.
There is something very fitting about it, especially after last night.
Something that needs to be destroyed before it can rise from the ashes again.
That's kind of how her body felt like yesterday. Destroyed.
Rachel is careful about how she words things. She is aware, as aware as she can be, of how different life will be from now on. But it's nothing her best friends haven't been able to do for themselves. She wouldn't want to demean that somehow by complaining.
Everyone has their lot in life and they got theirs. She is scared, though. Scared she's no longer human, scared they'll lose their minds someday, scared that something will take over again the way it did once she got her wings and the lights were on but no one, no one was home. "How do you take a break from something you are?" she asks almost inaudibly.
Is it even possible?
Rachel nods wordlessly at how he puts it. It does feel like even thoughts come differently. "I don't want to change... too much," she finally admits, and it's like her chest both tightens and eases at the same time once the admission comes. "That I forget."
His Don't feel bad is swiftly counterattacked with an equally persistent, "Don't lie."
She saw that wince. She knows he is tired. It would be physically impossible not to. "It's okay to be tired. Or someone keeps telling me," she says, lowering her head on the pillow opposite his, shifting on her side to face him.
Reply
It is a very fitting Calling for her, which is good. It won't-- she won't have to worry about any huge personality shift or trying to adjust to a whole new side of herself.
This Calling fits in well with what she already was like in som e ways, but it's just going to enhance it tenfold or more.
Noah looks over at her, and there's a soft smile at her answer as it makes a lot of sense to him. "Yeah, I guess that's right. I hadn't thought of it that way." It makes a lot of sense to him though. "I think that's one answer that science will never be able to have, one mystery that remains unsolved. Maybe it's supposed to be that way."
He does believe something happens to them, but he doesn't know what yet. He kind of likes the idea of them dying to become stars in the sky, watching over those who come next.
"Yeah, I knew it. See, I was just saving myself more trouble down the road. It was less of a letting, more of a Dear God, if I don't do this, what will she do next?" Noah is obviously teasing though since he loves her, and he nudges her leg, smirking. "I feel like the dirt was actually better than the sand would have been. Don't know why though."
They are both very inedible.
His parents view her as a daughter of their own. It's why his mother wanted him to be there, wanted to be there herself for it, but Noah insisted that it be him, that Rachel would try to hold herself together even with Mrs. Evans. It had to be him.
It has to be me, mom.
"I do know you very well," Noah admits quietly as he looks at the necklace settled against her, and he is thinking of last night as well, the pain that she went through. Like being born through fire, torn through a storm to come out something new on the other side. "It reminded me of you."
It's the reason that he chose it.
It is more fitting now than he ever imagined it could be.
But he's glad that she likes it.
Oh, Rachel, it wouldn't be complaining at all. It wouldn't demean anything if she did do that. Noah would understand completely, and he feels he has it easier than almost everyone else with his calling especially considering the ward that he has.
Not that anyone knows about that.
Noah lets out a breath. It's a hard question, but it's an important one to answer. He leans against his knee, looking down at the sheet. "It's like... whatever it is that you're doing, that the angel part of you wants you to do, you take a step back from that. You do something else, distract yourself, get distance from that project or that... thing. Like with Jess and Ben." It's not a Calling for Ben but same basic concept. "They're surrounded by emotion all the time. If it gets too strong, they have to take a step away from what is pushing at them. So like for you, you're going tow ant to learn things, set yourself into specific projects, you'd need breaks, distance from those projects or you lose yourself in them."
That's how powerful the calling is.
"It's who you are, but it's not... all of you. Too."
It's so hard to describe. Noah looks over at her, and he-- he says the first words that come to mind even if he's not sure they're true. "You won't," he says. "You won't forget."
There's no way to know anything for sure. He can't see the future, but as long as he is around, he'll fight against it.
Noah smirks a little at her. "I didn't want you to feel bad if I admitted I am tired even if it's obvious."
He's tired on more levels than he cares to admit, and he stares up at the ceiling before he glances sideways at her with a small smile. "I know it is. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was more important than sleep."
Reply
The sense of hearing. Their voices are sharper, clearer somehow, as if the volume on the television has been elevated, and they are already speaking softly as it is.
They would totally, totally watch Dr. Who, and Rachel would think Martha Jones was made of awesome, made only more awesome by the fact she lives in Chicago. They need to stumble on a blue box that takes them somewhere really random now. And that's the deal, my dear. 8|
"Maybe it is. Maybe the point isn't really finding the answers so much as living them. I do believe in the final moments it all clicks into place. Maybe I'm too idealistic that way, but I'd rather give the world too much credit than not enough of it." She doesn't know why it isn't the same when it comes to herself and her trust with other people, except that it isn't.
Rachel still has her eyes closed, but the grin widens and she nudges his leg right back. "Perhaps it was a texture thing? The texture of sand seems like the worse of two evils somehow. At least I'd never make you eat dirt now."
Which isn't to say she might not get the urge to tackle someone sometimes.
She loves his parents. She loves his parents but she really loves his mom. Whenever they've had Rachel over for dinner, she'll get Rachel second servings and touch her hair and fuss over how skinny she is. Rachel doesn't know why that, of all things, makes her feel like crying sometimes when she isn't prone to tears easily, but it does.
Because it's nice.
And as much as she loves them and has known them for literally forever, it's true that Rachel would've held back. She doesn't know why she is wired to be that way. She isn't a disingenuous person at all. She believes strongly in never being anything other than who she is.
But when it comes to showing how hurt she may be, it's almost instinct to not let it show.
To be stronger, to be braver, to be infinitely more put-together.
It is different with him. She's always rationalized it to be because they've known each other for longest, because they have been best friends for longest. There might be a part of her that's aware that isn't the case, but it doesn't change the fact it is different.
It reminded me of you. She'd still been looking down at the necklace at his words, but once they reach her, she lifts her gaze upward to look at him. And she does something she'd been wanting to do since she woke up and saw him.
Her arms slip around his neck and she hugs him tightly, the necklace resting against her chest at the mild pressure.
"Oh." Rachel has always figured Jess and Ben have it more difficult htna anyone else in the group. The emotions are constant, everywhere they go, there's no really turning it off. In comparison, she will have to struggle differently and not to the same degree. "I can do that. I think. If not I know you'll boss me around until I do. It's kind of like when I want to keep jotting down notes but my hand has a cramp and I know I shouldn't."
The urge to keep jotting things down will be stronger now, and the hand cramps will be more intense, and so will the need to keep going.
But she will try taking a step back.
"I believe you," she says simply. Whether it's true or not. They won't forget.
Rachel shakes her head. "You'd feel bad too, if the roles were reversed. And I wouldn't want you to feel bad but that wouldn't stop you. It's what makes us Rachel and Noah, I guess."
She smiles back at him, though it's more with her eyes than her lips. "I'm okay. I'm a lot more okay than I thought I would be. I know you don't want a thank you but just let me say it because it's important for me to do it, okay? Thank you for taking care of me."
Reply
He doesn't mind at all that she is talking to him with her eyes closed. She is talking to him, and in his mind, that is big. It's something important and good. There's no pain here, and the relief at that is nearly enough to make it hard to sit up.
BAW, Rachel. ;; That is awesome that she would love Martha Jones. They should meet in game, okay? :x AND OMG, they should go into a blue box that leads them on an adventure. It would be so much fun.
"I don't think you're too idealistic. If you are, I guess I am too. I like to believe the same thing," Noah says with a small smile, and it's easier to believe it knowing that she agrees. She is the smartest, wisest person that he knows in his opinion, and he would trust that.
He nods at that. It seems like a good theory. "I think that was it. There's something about sand that seems like it would be... a lot rougher," he says, making a face at the thought, not that he really remembers what dirt tastes like all that much.
It's not too hard for him to imagine swallowing sand though. He has no idea what that says about him. "Thank you. I appreciate that you would no longer make me eat dirt after all this time."
BAW, Rachel. It's really sweet to think of her with the Evans' family but especially with Mrs. Evans, okay? She deserves to have that kind of good influence in her life, and Noah is glad they could be friends, glad he could bring her into his family in a sense.
However, he does know that she would never be able to stop herself from trying to pull back with the hurt and the pain in front of them. It's been hardwired into her for whatever reason though she certainly wouldn't find anyone else being vulnerable and open to be terrible.
It's how she is, and Noah gets that.
He really understands it which is why he told his mom that she shouldn't come over. It should be him and Rachel, and he wasn't about to leave her alone with it.
There was no way in hell that he could have even if he wasn't her guardian. There's just... no way. Noah doesn't know the reasons why though he has rationalized it along the same lines. They have known each other longest, been best friends since such a young age.
However, it is so much more than that.
The more hasn't been acknowledged by him, by either of them.
But it's different and it's for more reasons than the fact they've known each other so long.
Noah doesn't hesitate. When she hugs him, he hugs her back, just as tightly. They're both stronger now, but neither of them crush the other one in that hug. They hug like they did before they were angels like they ahve for a long time. That hasn't changed at all.
So much has, but it doesn't feel different, hugging hre.
"I will definitely be bossing you around frequently. You dont' have to worry about that," Noah says with a small smile as he looks over at her. "I would kind of do that anyway, but yeah, that's what it'll be like but more intense and the whole of you will.. forget about sleep, eating. Get lost in the project basically."
It's almost impossible to resist. The angel sees no reason to resist even if the person is tired and hungry and getting lost in the notes.
He'll watch out for her, make sure she steps back when it's necessary.
Reply
Noah smiles at her when she says she believes him. It helps. It helps and it hurts, because he knows he's lying to her. Not about that, but there is a big lie, betrayal.
"Okay, I'll admit that I would feel bad too. It's irrational, and I know I can't make you not feel bad, but I wish you wouldn't anyway," Noah says quietly as he looks at her and then he laughs. "yes, that along with everything else makes us Rachel and Noah."
He sees the smile even if it's only in her eyes. It's enough. It's more than enough. "It's-- I don't need it, but I understand that you need to say it so I'm not... going to take that from you," Noah says quietly as he looks at her. "I'm glad you're more okay than you thought you'd be. You're.. welcome? It's hard for me to say it, because... I was just being your best friend."
Funny how there are moments when that phrase doesn't seem enough.
"What else was I going to do?"
Reply
The only real area where there still seems to be soreness is her shoulder blades, and she took aspirin for that once he brought her the water and crackers. She'll need bedrest for a while, but in comparison, it's all so subtle she doesn't notice. It is nice to be able to focus and have a conversation and not just be endlessly waiting for that moment the pain will stop.
The better question is, why would she not love Martha Jones? And thus, they will meet in game for it is necessary.
"The world needs its idealists! To see it not only as it is but what it could be. It'd be nice, anyway. Once it's all said and done, you're given the reasons why." Why things happened the way they did, why they got these Callings, why they've lost what they lost and ended up where they ended up. There has to be some sort of greater plan she just isn't aware of.
Rachel laughs softly, and she opens her eyes in time to see him make that face. "All this time I should've been making people eat sand instead," she says with the shake of her head. Since it'd be the more evil thing to do, apparently. "I missed the boat on that one."
There's no way to travel back in time and further secure the reputation.
It says he really was a very, very odd boy and thus got along with her, as she was a very, very odd girl. "Of course I wouldn't. Regression at this point would just be unseemly."
It is super sweet and Mrs. Evans has no doubt been a positive influence in her life. They've all kind of adopted Noah and Lex's friends into the family, in a sense, and they have known Rachel since she was a very little girl. If she really needed advice or guidance in the female sense and her mother wasn't around for it (and she usually wasn't and isn't) it's Mrs. Evans that would notice and help her.
Since Rachel is too proud to really ask for help a lot of the time.
But it does answer to a very basic need of hers, of all of theirs really, to have that familial kind of stability they can't find in their own homes.
She knows she'd be a very different person without him and his family in her life for so long.
It has not been acknowledge and she can't see how or why it would. There is practically nothing they can't talk about, but this isn't really something to talk about, so much as something that is whether they realize it or not, and it makes more sense at the time to believe it's just so many years of knowing each other.
Nothing needs to change.
The hug doesn't crush her in the slightest, despite her holding on tightly, face buried into his neck. There's relief that continues to flood through her, the more she awakens and the more it settles in that it's over, it's really over, and she's still here and it's going to be okay somehow.
"I will get to do bossing of my own, you know." Not that Noah, build me a TARDIS is an actual demand. The smile falls a little as she listens to him, mostly because it's a serious matter and she is paying attention. It sounds scary. Losing yourself so entirely to it if you don't step back, if someone isn't there nudging you to step back. "I don't want to get lost at all, but I know. I knew it would be hard if I ever did...become an angel."
It's weird to say, weirder to realize and think to herself. I'm not human anymore.
Reply
Does he need a break from her? Does he lose himself in being a guardian that he'd need a step back from her and their friendship? Rachel always believes him and takes his word at face value. There isn't anything he's ever said to her that's been a lie, though she is someone that believes omissions are lies. He's never said a lie to her, though, and she trusts him more than she does anyone else in the world.
"It's not forever," she says quietly, throwing his words back at him. Even the not-so-good things, like feeling pain or feeling bad, it's not forever. "I just don't like hurting you, even if you didn't notice. That's more than understandable, but it won't be forever. Promise."
She looks back at him from her position on the bed, hand curled up at her chest. "You don't have to say it," she answers after a moment of silence, understanding why it feels that way. Understanding why he is how he is. "You don't have to give me an answer. Just let me give it from time to time."
Best friend doesn't seem like enough. Thank you doesn't, either. "Not everyone stays," is what she says instead. "But I knew you would."
Rachel lifts up the quilt and drapes it over the both of them. "Now will you rest a little?"
Reply
She'll need bed rest, but the worst of it is over and it is so much easier to breathe, having seen her awake and okay and not in too much pain.
That is a very, very good question. They will definitely meet in game along with many others, and it will be adorable and awesome, and the narration will squee like a ridiculous person. ;;
"I agree completely. It's okay to be realistic to a certain extent, and it's important, but you don't have some ideals, some dreams... you'd risk getting... lost," Noah says, and he would really like to think that at the end of the road, in the final moments, they have clarity. He likes to think of death that way, and maybe he has to because of how much death they're all surrounded with.
In this city, it can feel endless.
Noah laughs when she says that she should have used sand all along. He shakes his head. "...damn," he says with a small smile as he looks down at his hands. "Though you know, if you'd made me eat sand instead, we might not have ended up being best friends so you should be grateful for your dirt forcing ways."
Since sand is the eviler of the two options.
"It would be very unseemly. There'll be no regression for either of us or for anyone else," he says and then points vaguely in a direction ahead of them both,on the other side of her bed. They can't see what's coming, but they've survived their transformations so there's only one way to go. "Straight ahead."
The Evans family has been so good for so many of them, and Noah has been really happy to be a part of his family because of it. He knows how they've been a good influence on Rachel's life. After Seth's dad had to keep his distance more often than not, they have him over for dinner whenever they can and have him spend the night so he's not sleeping alone in his house.
They do the same for Rachel and for Jess, and Ben's family is awesome too. There's no hatred there. They take in those that need it, and they give them what kids need, encouragement, belief, stability, and love. It's really powerful for all of them to be surrounded by.
They would all be so different without this group, without the Evans family there.
Noah doesn't think about it often because it's hard to imagine how different they all could be, but... he is grateful. Endlessly so.
Nothing needs to change, no.
And yet there's so much more.
He breathes in, tightening the hug for a moment and realizing with her that she is alive, that she is okay. The relief that he feels is his own and hers along side it. His hands rest against her back, and he rests his chin on her shoulder.
"Yes, I know. You already have," Noah says with a small smile though he realizes the TARDIS building was not actually an order, no. It is serious. Everything changes but not everything at the same time. It's so impossible to explain. "It's hard to have a power, but harder when the calling is involved. Because there's that other... voice... but it's more than a voice. I don't know. It's... it is really hard."
Noah thinks it is easier for him than for most others as he just has to protect one person. He wouldn't need a break from her, not that she knows. He would just need reminders to take care of himself if he were ever so wrapped up in taking care of her that he lost himself, but that didn't happen yet.
Reply
Maybe it's because they're best friends too that he can keep hold of the Noah even while being in full out guardian mode for her. Either way, she is reminding him now to rest and he can rest now knowing that she is alright. She's as alright as she can be and better than she thought she would be. He can feel it, and he senses it in her too.
He smiles a little when she throws his words back at him. It is appropriate, very appropriate. "Okay, not forever," he says. "It's understandable. I wouldn't like hurting you either, just like you wouldn't want me feeling bad. See what happens there? It just... circles on like that, but not forever. Okay."
Noah does get it. He looks at her, taking in a breath and looking down for a moment. "Okay," Noah says quietly. "You can give it whenever you need to, but it's never... necessary for me to hear."
It never could be enough, but this may be the first time he is realizing it fully, completely. Best friend isn't enough. "Of course I would."
He laughs again at the question, already shutting his eyes. "Okay. You're okay, I'm okay, and I'm going to... sleep... I think." Yes, that would be the exhaustion sliding in over him, and he stretches in place before curling over on his side and promptly passing out.
Sleep overtakes him, and it's comfortable. It's relaxed and secure because she's alive and beside him.
Reply
Leave a comment