Noah was so fucking angry. He'd let being blind not only cripple him physically, but allowed it to consumed him emotionally as well. He was a mess and he could not let Luke drown in the shit tip that had become his life. So he wouldn't.
Drowning in his own misery, he'd pushed the one person that would save his body from starving of oxygen away. It was the only way. He couldn't be there for Luke any more. So he had to keep pushing him, knowing that as each second went by he was dying a little more. But there was nothing else to do.
He had to rely on Dr. Oliver to give him his sight back and then - well he'd do everything in his power to make amends. He loved Luke more than anything and he knew how much he was hurting him but it was the only way he could save Luke from himself. He deserved better!
And if his sight didn't return at least Luke could be happy with somebody else.
He was angry. So damn angry.
But then, one fateful day, his sight suddenly restored fully. Noah felt the hope of life rushing throughout his body and was desperate to make amends. He wanted nothing more than to rush to Luke and hold him in his arms – never letting him go again. So he made a plan. Richard would drive him to the Luke’s house, and there he would lay down his heart to Luke fully and be the man that the love of his deserved.
Noah was crippled with anxiety and excitement in the car, barely able to speak a word to his friend that drove him. Getting out of the car, stepping on shaking legs he reached out to the cool metallic roof to steady himself, before taking a deep breath to build up the courage to confront the mess he’d made.
Now sitting on a bench - their bench - in Old Town, staring into nothingness with tears streaming down his face, he wished against all wishes that his sight had never been restored, or better yet that he’d never woken up after the accident. If that was the case then he would never have lost Luke in such an awful way. The kiss that he’d witnessed, so full of passion and heat, was enough to cut straight through his heart.
The things that were said between the two of them afterwards echoed cruelly in his mind. Luke had told him that it was a mistake, that he’d never meant to kiss Reid and that he wanted Noah. Noah wanted nothing more than to concede right there and then, but a big part of him had to hurt Luke right back. So that’s exactly what he set about doing. He wanted Luke to be consumed in the same guilt that Noah had felt for months for pushing him away.
Snapping back to the present, Noah could feel a thick darkness closing in around him. It strangled his senses and made him feel completely numb. In a haze of distraught depression, he suddenly realised exactly what he had to do. He began walking to the only place he had felt at home. Snyder farm.
Without remembering that he’d even moved an inch he was startled to find himself standing in the middle of the large kitchen. He stumbled his way over to the old oak bureau in the corner of the room and opened the draws franticly. Moving items around in haste he suddenly laid eyes on what he had been searching for; a small bronze key. Taking the key from the draw he held it out, eyeing it reverently before kneeling down and placing it in the lock to the large door at the base of the cabinet. The lock was stiff but after jiggling the key for a moment he felt it give and turned it quickly. He removed the contents and stood holding the large glass bottle carefully in his hands, knowing that in his condition an accident was waiting to happen. Not wanting to lose his escape he paid extra attention to ensure it fulfilled its purpose.
‘One more thing’ Noah thought to himself as he made his way across the room, picking up a stool from near the kitchen island and placing it on the floor again a few feet away. He placed the bottle on the counter and positioned the chair beneath a beam.
He then left the house that had meant so much to him ready to return one last time. He realised now that it was raining and that he was already soaked through. He thought to himself about classes in OU when they would speak about how the weather was used to purvey a person’s feelings and how in literature and film the protagonist’s anguish and turmoil would be reflected in the dark clouds and sheets of heavy rain. It made him almost happy to note that he would complete this act as if in a movie.
He rushed to the barn, opened the gate with ease and began his search. Quicker than he expected he found a piece of discarded rope between some bales of hay and he immediately began to tie one end into a knot. He smiled darkly to himself, considering the irony that it was his own father, Colonel Mayer, that had taught him to tie such a knot.
Walking back to the house, rope in hand, he took one last look down towards the pond before taking a deep breath of the fresh farm air and entering the house. He tied the lose end of rope up tight to the beam and tugged hard at the other end to ensure it was done properly.
He took a few moments to try and gather his thoughts of what to do next. Reality seemed to be playing tricks on him and he wanted to do this right. After sweeping his dark hair back from his face that lay heavy and wet on his forehead, he removed the cap from the top of the bottle and immediately started gulping down the vodka that swished inside it.
Wincing from the burning taste he received that seemed to electrify every sense in his body, he continued to drink until the bottle was empty. He then dropped it on the floor and watched as the glass splintered out in all directions.
Taking a step forward, he cut his feet on the shards, but barely noticed, his entire attention focused on what he was about to do. He stepped up onto the stool, shaking, with tears cascading down his cheeks. Not from fear or anger but the thought of Emma or one of the kids, or Holden and Lily finding him.
He shuddered as his mind allowed him a moment of clarity, but he knew it was a sad consequence of what now seemed to him to be the only thing left to do. He pulled the rope roughly over his head to sit firmly around his neck and let out a soft cry.
As he stepped off the stool kicking it back across the floor so that he was unable to wimp out, his body was overtaken with the sweet release of alcohol and as he stared vacantly at the door to the farmhouse, he thought of the most beautiful person he had ever known before everything went dark.