NOAH — JANUARY 20
Sounds outside woke him.
Noah's eyes opened. Didn't move.
Stared at the ceiling—expression flat. Body here, mind gone.
Breathed. Heavy. Worn out.
"More than a month..." Muttered it. Voice scraped. Breath unsteady.
Brought his hands up slow. Pressed them to his forehead. Palms freezing.
"Fuck." Lips moved. No sound came out.
Lay there. Longer. Then forced himself up—like lifting dead weight.
Sat on the bed's edge. Shoulders sagging. Breathing all wrong.
Stood. Knees buckled slightly.
----
Downstairs. Two guards talking in the corridor.
Couldn't catch the words. Just noise washing over him.
One looked up. Noah nodded. The mask slid on—automatic now.
Guard stepped back. Deferential.
Gym. Treadmill.
Started running. Tried blanking his mind. Just the rhythm. Just breathing.
That ache in his chest came back anyway. Familiar. Crushing.
Switched to the bike.
Window view. Snow. Trees. Empty grounds.
His vision blurred.
Atlas.
His shoulders locked up. Legs quit moving.
Lips barely shifted.
"Maybe he's... moved on by now."
"Maybe there's someone else."
Heard his own voice crack when he said it.
Everything tensed at once. Shoulders bunched. Jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.
"Fuck."
Bit down on his lip. Breathed through his nose.
Squeezed his eyes shut. Like he could shove the thoughts out physically.
"Just focus. On yourself."
Kept pedaling.
Mirror before leaving. Looked at himself.
Not with any pride. Just exhaustion staring back.
"You look okay at least..."
Trailed off. Looked away fast.
----
Shower. Water scalding his shoulders. Leaned his head against the tile— stood there for a moment without moving.
Breathed deep. Safer here somehow.
Dressed.
Downstairs.
Guard brought breakfast. Noah nodded once.
Sat by the fireplace.
Hands in his lap. Not holding anything. Just—trying to keep still.
Watched flames. Time bled. Thoughts drifting nowhere.
Heard something outside.
Steps. Voices. Movement in the house.
"Busy today..." Barely whispered it.
Then closer. Heels clicking. Measured. Confident.
Noah's spine went rigid without him deciding to.
The sound stopped.
Still watching the fire. Face blank.
"Noah?"
Heard it. Didn't process.
"Noah."
Louder. Closer.
"Noah."
Footsteps.
"Noah."
Hand touched his shoulder.
He jerked—small, involuntary.
Head came up. Eyes unfocused. Blinked a few times waiting for it to clear.
That face... he knew it.
But his brain couldn't make it real.
Eyes went wide. Breath caught.
"...Mom? That's... that you?"
Voice cracked. Half-question, half-plea.
Like maybe he was hallucinating.
She pulled him into her. Arms around his neck. Her breath hitched—barely holding on.
"It's me."
Soft but controlled.
Noah's hands hovered. Didn't know where to go. Muscles frozen solid.
She looked at the guard by the door. Chin lifted.
"Close it."
Guard left. Door shut.
She dropped her bag. Hugged him again.
This time her palms cupped his face. Thumbs traced under his eyes—where the exhaustion lived.
"I'm here." Kissed his forehead. Quick. Gentle.
Noah's lip shook.
Eyes flooded.
He tried. Tried so hard to hold it. Couldn't.
Broke. Shaking.
His chest jerking with it.
"Thought... thought you forgot about me."
She blinked hard. Eyes shining.
Pulled him tighter.
"Never. You're my son. Don't you dare give up."
Noah dropped his head onto her shoulder.
Breathing wet. Tight.
"I can't... I can't do this anymore." Sounded like a kid.
She stroked his hair. Fingers caught at the base of his skull. Held there.
"I'm getting you out. Soon."
Noah pulled back enough to see her face.
Eyes bloodshot. Brow furrowed.
"You mean it?"
She nodded. Small movement.
Wiped his tears with her thumbs. Both cheeks.
"Yeah."
Fixed his hair. Kissed his cheek again.
Then pulled out her phone.
"Someone wants to see you."
FaceTime connected.
Held it out.
---
Noah went completely still.
Breath stopped. Just—stopped.
Then his eyes blew wide.
Atlas. On the screen.
Neither of them spoke.
Just stared.
Noah gripping the phone so hard his knuckles drained white. Hand shaking slightly.
Atlas's voice came out rough. Broken around the edges.
"I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much."
Noah's jaw trembled. His whole face working to hold shape.
"I—" Voice caught. Tried again. "I missed you. So fucking much."
Silence. Heavy. Both breathing loud enough to hear through the phone.
Atlas swallowed. Hard. His eyes wet but he tried smiling. Failed halfway.
"I'm getting you out. Soon. I swear."
Noah didn't answer. Just looked at him. Like if he blinked Atlas might disappear.
Atlas's voice dropped. Quieter. Desperate.
"Say something. Please."
Tried for that smile again. Still didn't work.
Noah's head tilted. Slight.
"What do I even... there's nothing to say."
But his eyes said everything.
Atlas's breath hitched. Visible even through the screen.
"Took so long to find you. Too fucking long."
Noah's voice came out pained—hurting.
"I don't even know where I am."
Atlas blinked. One tear slipped. He didn't wipe it.
"I love you."
Noah's face crumpled for a second. Then softened. Pain mixed with something gentler.
"Love you too."
His mother's hand appeared at the edge of the frame. Gentle interruption.
"Hang up now. You'll see each other soon."
Noah's eyes filled again. Tears balancing on his lashes.
Atlas:
"Soon. Okay?"
Noah:
"Yeah."
His mother took the phone back.
"I'll call you, Atlas."
Screen went black.
---
MOTHER
She sat next to him.
Took his hand. Thumb pressing into his palm—firm, grounding.
Reached into her bag. Pulled out a phone. New.
"Your new line."
Voice steady but something warm threading through.
"Only two numbers. Me and Atlas."
Slipped it into his sweatshirt pocket.
Noah still looked half-asleep. Eyes distant. Like he was trying to hold onto something fading.
She grabbed his face. Both hands. Not rough. But commanding.
"Wake up."
Noah focused on her.
First time in months something clicked behind his eyes. Like finding solid ground.
"You're leaving here."
Voice like steel.
Noah barely breathed the word:
"When?"
"Atlas has a team outside right now. Drones scanning everything."
Noah's brain switched on. Automatic. Started listing—cameras, blind spots, guard rotations, shift changes.
Told her about the east side. Said he'd thought about running that way but had no idea where it led.
She smoothed his hair back.
"They're finishing reconnaissance today. You'll know tonight."
"Extraction team's ready."
Pulled him in again.
This time Noah's arms went around her waist. Held on.
"Be strong."
"I love you."
"Love you."
Knock.
Guard bowed. Apologetic.
"We need to go now."
She stood. Held his face one more time. Both hands. Kissed him. Hugged him.
Walked to the door. Looked back once.
Noah couldn't breathe.
---
He dropped into the chair.
Chest heaving. Breath choppy. Uneven.
His hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Shoved one into his pocket. Felt the phone.
"It was real."
Got up. Paced. Small circle. Forced himself upstairs.
Door closed.
Fell onto the bed.
Pulled the phone out. Set it beside him.
Stared at it. Long time.
Unlocked it.
Contacts. Two names.
Atlas.
Mom.
Finger hovering over Atlas's name. Almost pressed it. Stopped.
Pulled back.
"What would I even..."
Set it down.
Then—something shifted. Like his chest remembered how to expand.
Screen lit up.
Atlas: I love you.
Noah's mouth curved. Small. Involuntary. Almost embarrassed by it.
Typed back: I love you.
Another message:
Atlas: Go to the window.
Noah stood. Confused.
Walked over. Opened it.
Cold air rushed in. Snow still falling. Everything quiet.
Then—movement. Distance. A drone.
Coming closer.
Phone buzzed.
Atlas: I see you.
Noah exhaled. Something between a laugh and a sob. Pressed the phone to his mouth for a second.
Sent an emoji. Something small.
Drone got closer. Hovered.
Noah glanced down. Checking for guards.
Empty.
Atlas: I missed you so much.
Noah: Missed you too.
Drone pulled back. Disappeared into the gray.
Noah closed the window.
Room colder now. Grabbed the blanket off his bed. Wrapped it around his shoulders.
Knock.
Phone in his pocket. Fast.
Sat in the chair. Face neutral.
Guard brought dinner. Left.
Noah sat at the table. That small smile still there — he couldn't quite kill it.
For the first time in weeks, he noticed something strange: he was actually hungry.
A real hunger. Not routine. Not obligation. Just… hunger.
He picked up the fork and took a bite — and only then realized how empty his body felt.
The food tasted like nothing, but the act of eating felt grounding.
His phone buzzed. Atlas.
Noah swallowed quickly, wiped his fingers on the napkin, and grabbed the phone — a little too fast.
Atlas texted. Questions about security.
Noah answered everything. Cameras. Times. Sounds. Patterns.
Atlas: Team comes to a point. You have to get there.
Noah's hands shook typing.
Noah: Okay.
Atlas: Tomorrow night. Be ready.
Noah: Okay.
Atlas video called.
Noah answered.
They both just—looked. Couldn't speak.
Tried smiling. Both failed.
Hung up.
Atlas: Dress warm tomorrow. You'll be walking.
Tears came. Silent. Sliding down.
Noah: Okay.
Noah: Where are you?
Atlas: Close.
Noah: You were in the car.
Atlas: Yeah. Moving to a spot nearby. Then joining the team.
Noah's face warmed. Something like hope spreading.
Noah: Thank you.
Atlas: Sleep. Talk tomorrow.
Noah: Night.
Set the phone on the nightstand.
Lay back.
His chest felt different. Lighter. Like he'd been holding his breath for weeks and finally let go.
Eyes closed.
For once, sleep didn't fight him.