Free Noah by Cara Dee

parents and mine. They come out stronger, and unlike my lovely ex-girlfriend, they remain loyal."
    Had Emma been right to say I always compared us to Tennyson and Sophie?
    Always was a strong word, but maybe my expectations had been too high. Then again, who wouldn't want what my friends had? I supposed I was all-or-nothing in that respect. Fuck settling. Fuck her for stepping out on me.
    Julian's forehead creased, and he hesitated a beat before asking. "She cheated on you?"
    Right. I hadn't told him why Emma and I broke up.
    "Yup. I walked in on her and some guy she'd picked up at the store." I reached for my beer and drained half of it. "This was the day before the plane crash."
    "Jesus." Julian flinched. "I'm sorry."
    It was what it was. Thinking about Emma didn't hurt as much as it had a few weeks ago. With everything else going on, her betrayal paled in comparison, and it made it easier to move past.
    *
    That night, it was difficult to sleep.
    Boredom had kicked in, which I supposed was a good thing, and I tossed and turned until I gave up. Putting on a pair of sweats, I headed for the living room to watch TV.
    I'd bought a flat screen for Julian, but I didn't want one in my room.
    The script was still on the coffee table.
    Fuck it.
    I got up to make some coffee and read the script, but the moment I reached the kitchen, I heard a strangled cry coming from down the hall. Julian had told me he had nightmares every now and then.
    Changing direction, I walked down the hall and listened through his door.
    "Stop laughing, Lin," I heard him mumble. "I'm serious. Don't go on that flight."
    "Shit," I whispered. He was dreaming about his sister, and was…what, trying to warn her? That couldn’t end well.
    Julian cursed viciously, and there was a thump coming from his room that made me reach for the doorknob. Then I waited. It was quiet for a while, but eventually I heard him moving around.
    I gave the door a couple knocks before I opened it. Worry shot through me when I realized he was crying, but instead of giving comfort a go, I was struck mute and immobile. I guessed my impression of Julian wasn't everything. Half-shy and cautious, I knew. But wearing only pajama bottoms revealed tattoos along his ribcage, one nipple pierced, and the little shit was smoking a cigarette out the window.
    I ignored the smoking for now, though.
    Staring at him, it was easy to see his battle. Trying to keep his hurt to himself but failing. He stared back, apprehensive, but then he sorta gave up. He hung his head and rubbed at his eyes, tears rolling down freely.
    "I hate losing them over and over," he croaked. "It's the same almost every night."
    I closed the door behind me and approached the window. It was dark, though the streetlamps from outside provided enough light to see he was a fucking mess.
    As I leaned back against the wall and folded my arms over my chest, he took a pull from the smoke and then threw it out.
    "Sorry about that," he muttered.
    "It's okay." It wasn’t the smell that bothered me. It was the temptation. Despite it being a habit I'd kicked twenty years ago, I tended to go for vices in rough times. "Tell me about your dream."
    He shuddered and wiped his cheeks. "They're always fine. Laughing and joking around. I drop them off at the airport knowing what's going to happen, and they don't listen to me. I guess, in my dream, the plane crashes on the way from Germany."
    Fuck, that had to be hell. My dreams usually revolved around childhood memories, and there was the occasional nightmare where I relived the day I found out about the crash on the news.
    Whatever thoughts were running through Julian's mind became too much for him. He buried his face in his hands, shoulders trembling from silent cries.
    "It hurts too fucking much, Noah."
    I yanked him in for a hug, acting on instinct. The pain in his raw voice made me choke up, too. "I know it's not much, but I'm here for you, Julian." I'd thought he was doing better. Maybe he was,