Something Beautiful.

"Noah?"

Noah scrambles off my lap and away from me, sitting on the end of his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, breathing heavily and staring at nothing in particular, eyes glazed over. I want to reach out to him, but just looking at him I can tell Noah is miles away from me.

"N-" I begin again, but Noah squeezes his eyes shut and starts rocking back and forth, whimpering like a dog somebody's kicking.

"I'm sorry," he gasps and then takes in a huge gulp of air like a drowning victim taking the first breath after resurfacing from a lake. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

What he's apologizing for, I have no clue. One moment we were making out (and damn were we making out), and then I felt scars on Noah's right side of his body. I pulled back out of surprise, which probably made him self conscious about it, but if he has a scar, he has a scar, no problem. What I don't understand is why he's apologizing. I'm the one who pulled away, I should be apologizing. I'm not some shallow prick who wouldn't want to kiss him, or be with him because of a scar, no matter how disfigured it makes his skin. We all have flaws, right? What's a scar have to do with how I feel about him? Over my stunned thoughts I can still hear Noah apologizing in the background, shaking and heaving like he's crying without the tears.

"Noah, baby, I'm the one that's sorry, what's wrong?" I move to comfort him, but as I place a hand on his shoulder a violent shudder wracks his frame and he pulls away from me, making a noise like a wounded animal in the back of his throat. I jerk my hand back immediately, unsure of what to do with my boyfriend in such a state.

When my hand pulls back Noah bursts into tears that quickly progress into full blown sobs as he teeters dangerously close to the edge of his bed. I can't stand to see him in this state, especially all over something as stupid as me touching a scar on his torso. It's quite obvious Noah's hurting about something deeper, something that's been ingrained in him as much as knowing how to write is.

I lift myself off the bed and walk around the end to where he's sitting, gingerly placing myself beside him and letting my feet go off the edge and rest on the floor.

"Noah," I try again. "Baby, come here, what's wrong?" This time when I put my hands on his shoulders he doesn't protest, but lets me crush his frail body against my chest. I hold him there for a minute and let him sob, wishing just being in my arms would be enough for him to let go of all of his worries.

"I'm... I'm sorry," he cries again, before taking a deep breath and lightly pushing me away even though he shows no sign of ending his tears. "Be-before we moved there were these guys," Noah cries, lapsing into tears and incomprehensible babble for a moment. "And after I told they - they found out and then on my way home one day," he pauses to let himself cry some more, pressing his face into my chest for a moment.

"O-on my way home one day they found m-me." Noah pauses again, slowing himself down before continuing on in a monotone voice that sounds like it's constantly threatened by being broken with another round of tears. "They had a dog with them, and they got it to attack me." I draw in a sharp breath and hug Noah closer to my body. It makes sense now. It makes so much fucking sense as to why he's not only afraid of people, but why he freaked out when Tiger was in my house. How sick do you have to be to sic a dog on a person?

"It, it was really bad. Like the dog's teeth tore through some muscle and stuff, and when they finally got it to stop they just ran the other way. Did you know I used to sing in front of everyone?" Noah loses it again and dissolves into tears, but I hold him patiently and press my lips to the crown of his head. I don't know what I'm feeling right now, but all I know is that it's a mixture of every bad feeling in the book. My heart is breaking for Noah, but I'm also angry, disgusted, sad, upset, but most of all I'm pissed. I am so pissed off that I want to storm NYC and find those two disgusting bastards and beat the shit out of them. How dare they break such a beautiful human being. How dare they take away his trust, joy, self-worth, and in essence, Noah's very identity. How dare they make him feel this way.

My jaw clenches in rage, but I keep the rest of my body relaxed in hope of not disturbing Noah. There's more to this story I know, because he somehow had to heal and make it to Comfort before the story is over. I'm waiting patiently while he's a mess in my arms, and I would wait a thousand more years if that's what he needs.He sits back up so he's facing me, but he keeps his eyes downcast. When he finally continues again there's still tears running down his face and his speech is fragmented by occasional intakes of air.

"I - I used to sing for everyone. I was s-supposed to have a solo in the Christmas performance, b-but that was b-before. That was when I danced and sang and had friends. I-I used to p-party and h-have fun and not give a damn what anyone else thought. But now I can't. I had to s-stay in the hospital for a while, and it didn't take very long before n-nobody visited. I know why, it's because of how u-u-ugly I am and because I'm broken."

I can't believe I'm hearing this. Noah be ugly? No. Scars or no scars, Noah is one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. "Baby you're not ugly at all-" I begin, but Noah cuts me off, his voice thick with shame.

"Don't lie to me Shane. I-I know I am, and I know I don't deserve someone as perfect as you, but I care about you so much. Please, please, please don't leave me. I know I'm not perfect and I know I'm broken and ugly and not worth a second of your time, but I'm begging you Shane, please don't leave me."

Noah's actually afraid I'm going to break up with him because of these scars. If there's one thing he's said about himself that's a valid assessment, it's that he's broken. He is so broken up inside, but as corny as it sounds, I want to be the one that puts him back together.

"Noah," I say, but he sits in front of me and refuses to look up, swiftly shaking his head back and forth. "Noah I am not going anywhere and I can promise you that, okay?" I reach out to smooth down a piece of his hair, but he moves backwards, stuttering out a 'no' and shaking his head again. "Hey," I whisper softly this time, catching his cheeks between my hands and lifting his chin so he has to connect his gaze with mine.

My eyes rake over Noah and take in every aspect of him, his tear-stained cheeks, red watery eyes, defeated stature. He is so beautiful. "I am not going anywhere you got that? I am here, I am yours, and it's going to take a whole hell of a lot more than some scars to send me packing, okay? I'm here and you're going to have to deal with it whether you what me here or not." I use my thumbs to slowly smooth away his tears and Noah shuts his eyes tight in a half pained, half grateful manner. "And one more thing," I say gently, touching my forehead to his. "You, Noah White are beautiful."

I press my lips to his, and I slowly feel him giving up to the fact I'm not leaving. When I pull away a second later Noah pushes himself closer to me and curls into my chest, slowly gaining control of his tears. Gingerly I scoot backwards onto the bed and lay down with my arms still around Noah, turning so he's laying next to me. I leave one arm around him, but I let my other hand reach over and smooth his hair, knowing he needs nothing more than comfort right now.

The longer I smooth his hair the more relaxed his body becomes and after a few minutes Noah is still in my arms, his slightly heavy breathing the only remnant of his previous break down. I don't want to disturb him, but in spite of myself I let my curiosity get the best of me.

"Hey baby?" Noah tilts his head up to look at me and I move my hand from his hair to his side, slowly rubbing his ribs. "Could I... will you show me your scars?"

"N-no Shane. They're ugly and disfigured and-"

"Please?" With a sigh Noah rolls away from me and onto his back, allowing me to sit up beside him. I lean down and kiss him once more before gingerly lifting the bottom of his shirt and pushing it to his chest, revealing the skin underneath.

Deep irregular scars adorn the right side of his body, snaking over the other-wise pale skin, leaving deep red marks that I know will never leave. They look deep, and even as scars they look painful. I realize with a start the scars must be the cause of the pain that makes Noah occasionally grab his side. I allow my fingers to lightly trace over the red scars, wishing I could smooth them away with my gentle touch so Noah could feel good about himself again, but no matter how lovingly I touch them the scars stay.

When I let my eyes wander to the left side of his body I almost gasp with shock. There's scars here too, though they are lighter and more shallow. The contrast between the scars on the two sides of Noah's body are glaringly obvious, but at closer inspection the ones on the left appear to try and match the ones on the right. The thing is, they're a cleaner cut. A cleaner cut. When this thought dawns on my my fingers pause in their attempt to erase the left-side scars as well, and when I look up at Noah's face I realize there is a steady flow of silent tears leaving the corners of his eyes.

I shift my weight and prepare to talk, but before I can get a word out Noah starts talking in a worn out tone, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... wanted to be beautiful again. I wanted to be me again. I-I know people usually cut themselves because they want to die, or feel something, but that wasn't it at all. After it happened, and especially after I got out of the hospital, I felt something. Actually, I felt a lot of things. I felt too much.

"At first it was all fear and pain and a feeling of loss, but when I went home I started feeling useless because nobody would let me do anything. I was afraid to go outside, and I felt isolated, disfigured, ugly, and honestly, I hated myself because I did the 'right thing' but the attack was all I got from it. Somewhere along the way I started thinking about conventional beauty, about how the human eye sees symmetry and interprets it as beautiful. It got me thinking that if I could even it out, make everything uniform, I would gain back my beauty. I would gain by myself." Noah opens his eyes and looks at me, silently pleading for understanding. I find myself momentarily at a loss for words, but I manage to mutter an 'it's okay baby' before gently laying his shirt back over his torso and laying down beside him so we're laying on our backs looking at the ceiling.

After I get in comfortable beside him and take his hand, intertwining his fingers, Noah continues to speak, all tears now dried up. "Nick found me one day while I was... uh, while I was cutting, and everything changed from then. Everyone was hyper-vigilant about my well being, and even though I had been doing an online school my parents decided it was time for us to leave The City. They found this house and spent a while fixing it up, leaving weekends to work on things that needed to be changed while Nick and I stayed home. I know it was a hard move, especially for Nick, it being his senior year and all, but I've never heard any of them complain, not once. Honestly, it makes me feel a little guilty that my whole family had to pick up their lives for me. I mean, I don't feel like it was worth it for them sometimes."

"You're worth it," I tell Noah, pulling him close and turning us on our sides so I'm spooning him. "And at least one good thing came out of this."

"What's that?"

"I got to meet you," I whisper and press a quick kiss to the back of his neck. This causes Noah to lean farther back into my chest and I'm amazed at how easily we fit together, and how good it feels to have Noah right in front of me. He's cried a lot today, and crying really tires you out, so I figure Noah has to be super tired. I let my hand slowly smooth up and down Noah's arm like my mom did to help me fall asleep when I was younger and not too long after I start Noah's body goes relaxed and his breathing slows and deepens, telling me he's fast asleep.

I can't believe all the information I've been flooded with tonight. I keep trying to picture Noah before, back when he wore fitted clothes and sang in front of everyone and partied and was a major people person, but I just can't do it for very long. I see small glimmers of that old Noah in my Noah, especially on times like earlier tonight when he sang, but to think of a Noah that is like the recording 24/7 is just unimaginable.

The more I think about it the more amazed I become. I've known ever since I met him that Noah was hiding something because it was evident in his everyday mannerisms. Now that I've finally been let in on the secret it's hard to believe something that big can be hidden within a boy so small. When he first moved here I thought maybe he was just inherently shy. I mean, some people are like that, right? There's no tragic past that has made them anti-social, they just are.

It became evident pretty soon after meeting him that Noah wasn't just anti-social though. When I realized he was gay I thought maybe he had been bullied at his old school for it or something, and when I realized he wasn't out I considered it might be because he wasn't out and was afraid to come out. What I didn't realize was that it people are sick enough to set a dog on another human, and that it could happen to such a great person as my boyfriend.

When he freaked out when he first saw Tiger I was so confused by the irrational fear of a dog so tiny, but now I understand his totally rational reaction. I do kind of wish he could be okay around her because I know he'd love her if he got to know her. Then again, who knows? He told me about everything that happened so he obviously trusts me a lot. Maybe I could get him to be around the old girl. I don't know, it might be a stretch, but I'll run it by him after the vet figures out what's wrong and she can come home.

Thinking about Tiger reminds me that Noah has told me his absolutely biggest secret and how Tiger is tied to mine. Noah has all the outward signs of a tragic past and I've always known something's wrong, but I wonder if he can see through my charade. Freshman year seems a lifetime away and sometimes I literally feel like I'm in a different life than I was back then. It's almost ironic that both Noah's past and my past are tied to dogs, but in totally different ways.

He begged me to not leave him and pleaded with me to understand his feelings of isolation and uselessness and not belonging anywhere. I wonder how he'd react if I told him those feelings were all-too familiar to me.

Somehow in this crazy thing called life we've both managed to end up here on this bed. We both have people that have made it possible; Nick for him, Jules for me. The thing is, we're both here, we're together, and quite honestly, we're both happy, something I never used to think could happen. I know I'll have to tell him sometime, but first I need to be here for him, show him I'm not going to run the other way because of what has happened to him before I open up and show him the ugly side of myself, the part I have so carefully concealed.

After tonight I know I'll have to tell him soon, but honestly it's not something I want to do. It's not that I'm embarrassed or that it's a huge secret, but my past is a tender subject that I usually only share with Jules because he was a part of it.

The longer I lay here thinking the slower my hand moves along Noah's arm. Pretty soon, my hand stops all together and with thoughts of my freshman year and Jules and Tiger playing through my mind I feel myself slip off to sleep, still holding Noah close to my body.

*****

I'm woken up by a large hand shaking my shoulder. For a moment I lie in a half dazed state, not sure of where I am or how I got there, but everything flows back to me, from Thanksgiving at my house earlier to the fact Nick had a date and of course Noah's story. I'm asleep on Noah's bed holding him. Well, I was a second ago.

"Shane," Nick whispers as he gently shakes my shoulder again. "Hey, my parents are on their way from the airport and they'll be here in about thirty minutes. You've gotta go home bro."

"Mmhm," I reply groggily and roll away from Noah, trying not to wake him. Nick stands at the doorway watching us with an unreadable expression as I pick up the shoes I kicked off earlier before watching the video and tie them. When I stand the bed creaks a little but Noah isn't disturbed. I smile down at my boyfriend who looks so peaceful as he sleeps there before unfolding the blanket at the foot of his bed and draping it over his body and turning on a lamp on his side table.

"Shane?" Noah asks confusedly with his eyes still closed, feeling the material of the blanket as though he's not sure what's going on. I cross back over to him, leaning over the bed and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Go back to sleep baby, I'm going home. Your parents will be here in about thirty minutes. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Noah agrees, still barely conscious and I press my lips to his cheek before turning back to the door where Nick is still standing, watching the whole scene in front of him.

As I walk towards him Nick backs up and I turn off Noah's light and shut the door behind me, hoping he'll sleep well. Nick just stands up against the wall watching me and I'm a little worried. I mean, he's one of my best friends. Is he pissed that he just found me asleep on the same bed as his little brother? It's not like we did anything except make out and he has to understand that, being a teenage boy and all. I'm running a hundred miles in my mind trying to figure out what he's thinking, but as I bend over to get my coat off the couch in the game room Nick finally speaks and I can tell he's worried.

"Is something wrong with Noah?" he asks me, concern dripping into his voice. "Is he sick or something?"

"No, he's just really tired. He uh, did a lot of crying today." I don't want to meet Nick's gaze so I take my phone out of my coat pocket to check the time. Holy shit it's 12:45. No wonder Nick is kicking me out.

"Crying? Shane, what happened?" I used to think Nick's overprotective big brother act was cute albeit sometimes annoying, but now that I know that it's all because he almost lost Noah there's a much darker undertone in the caring. I still think it's cute but maybe I can be less annoyed by it now. He's just worried about Noah.

"I - uh, we. Well," I pause, trying to collect my thoughts and figure out how to word this the least awkward way possible. How do you explain to your best friend in the best possible light that you were making out with - and had your hands up the shirt of - his little brother? I look up into Nick's face and the worry that his voice had carried has fashioned itself into an expression that his face now wears. "You see," clear throat. "Noah and I were kissing. Erm, making out, and I felt one of his scars and he freaked out. I got him to calm down enough to talk to me, and he eventually relaxed enough to tell me everything that happened in New York, but there were a whole lot of tears spent before he got to the end. I didn't realize what time it was because I fell asleep not too long after he did."

"What?" Nick breathes, his mouth hanging agape. "He - he told you about what happened in The City? Everything?" He shakes his head and makes his way over to where I'm standing as if he can't possibly believe what he's hearing.

"Yeah," I admit with a soft voice. "He told me everything with the guys and the dog and th - the cutting and why you moved here." Nick stands stock-still in front of me staring at me as if I'm an alien life from that he was sure didn't exist. "And you know what Nick? It makes me sick. It makes me want to find the sons of a bitch myself and just beat the shit out of them. It's, it's a totally irrational thought I know, especially for me, but it just makes me so damn angry that people can be such sick bastards."

"I used to think about that too," Nick admits, his voice low. "But it's been so long now that I'm past feeling angry most of the time. I've been too caught up in making sure my little brother is okay and that he's healing and not relapsing back into how he was right after it happened. Shane," he says, looking at me with an almost terrified look in his eyes. "You don't know what it was like, right after it happened. Noah was so withdrawn, and his eyes looked so dead.

"I know people are damaged by that kind of stuff not only physically, but psychologically too. The thing is, I didn't know if I was every getting my little brother back. When he spoke his voice was monotone and everything he used to love didn't even bring a flicker of light to his eyes. When he came home it was hard on all of us, him refusing to leave the flat and flinching away at all physical contact. I had finally decided that I could make the adjustments Noah needed to make sure he was comfortable and knew he was loved, and then one day I went in the bathroom."

Nick's voice cracks and he pauses, wiping his water eyes on his sleeves. I've seen Noah emotional before tonight, but I've hardly even seen Nick being serious. Seeing him like this is not only hard, but it hurts me too. This whole time he's been strong for Noah, but it makes me wonder if there has ever been anyone for him to talk to or hold him when it has all gotten too hard for him. He clears his throat causing me to jump a little as the silence is disrupted, but Nick goes back into speaking as though the pause never happened.

"When - when I found him cutting I was sure he had reached the end. I was terrified out of my mind that he was going to cut too deep or lose too much blood or just decide he'd have enough and take his own life. I think that was the worst part, seeing him relishing the flow of the blood down his torso as if it was a normal expected thing.

"Even after he promised to stop I lived in fear he would kill himself, even if he vowed that wasn't the purpose of the cuts. When we moved here I was hopeful he would revert to him old self, but I lost hope after I saw how he reacted first to Madison and then to you and Fries. I was starting to wonder if there was anything left to try to help him, but then he came out to me, and started dating you and everything changed.

"Noah is more energetic now, more outgoing than I've seen him in months. He's starting to wear more and more fitted clothes and he's more confident. Shane, I heard him singing in the shower last week. I haven't heard him sing since before the attack. I just... I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you. I know sometimes I put on the big brother act and yeah, I'm protective of Noah. It's understandable in the light of things I hope.

"Under it all, I'm happy you're with my brother. At first I was afraid it was too soon for him to be in a relationship and that it would make him even worse off than the self esteem weak boy he already was. In this case, my first impression has never been so wrong. You're good for him. You're... You're giving me my brother back. Thank you Shane." His last sentence is barely above a whisper, but his whole speech is here, hanging above us in this silence.Without being able to find words I take the two steps around the side of the couch and wrap Nick in a hug that he returns without hesitation.

"No," I argue. "Thank you. For stopping him, for insisting on the move, for not caring you were giving up your senior year for a new school. You may think I'm giving you your little brother back, but you brought him to me and he gives me life and makes me feel lighter and happier than I could imagine, so I need to thank you too Nick."

Nick releases me from our hug with a huge smile on his face. "It's a really great day. You know that don't you?"

"Of course," I smile back. "And Noah told me you were out with a girl? What is this Harris character like?" At my mention of his date Nick's face gets painted with a goofy grin, the one hundred percent serious conversation of a few moments before forgotten.

"She's... she's amazing," He tells me and I'm afraid he's been bitten by the love bug, bad. "She's about 5'6, 5'8ish with powder white skin, these adorable nerd glasses she sometimes wears and get this, the best part besides her sense of humor is her hair. It's red and long and flowing, and boy do I love redheads. Honestly Shane, she may only be a sophomore but she's really great. She acts and she's smart and funny and I think she would fit in with all of us." It makes me happy to see him so clearly smitten. Quite honestly, it's about time for Nick to find someone since the other four of us have unintentionally paired off and left him alone.

"When do we get to meet her?" I ask.

Nick laughs, shaking his head. "That's exactly what my brother asked earlier when I told him about her! You can all meet her after I make her my girlfriend." The sound of Nick's phone buzzing comes from his pocket and he takes it out, glancing at his screen for a second before typing a quick reply. He looks up at me with an apology written on his face. "I don't mean to kick you out, but parents are ten minutes away so you might want to go ahead and go. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course man, I wouldn't miss it for the world," I reply, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's about time I get some sleep anyways. Later bro."

Nick chuckles quietly and makes his way to his room, releasing me to head out on my own. I pause for a moment, looking around the game room and checking to make sure I have my phone, jacket, and wallet before starting down the stairs. I'm about halfway down the stairs when I stop abruptly and turn back. I reach Noah's room a moment later, opening the door quietly to check in on my boyfriend one more time before I leave.

Noah has rolled over since I left, his face towards the door now. His hair is lightly pressed against his face, falling around his features and framing them. Most of all, I notice he is peaceful as he sleeps, something I wish I could give him every one of his waking hours.

On my ride home I think about what a strange Thanksgiving it has been. My usual Thanksgiving consists of sitting around with my family, eating, watching football, and then sleeping the rest of the day away on a full stomach. I guess I did get the whole sleeping part of it this year, but a year ago I never would have predicted a Thanksgiving like I had today.

As always, I'm thankful for everything I've been blessed with. I have a great life that I know I should be grateful for more often. I'm thankful for the accepting people I'm surrounded with, the wonderful town I live in, the parents I have, the house they provide, my family, Tiger, and of course Jules and his family. That's the normal spread of who I'm thankful for.

Last year all I had was Jules and I didn't see that changing before I graduated. Now I have Noah too, the amazing boy I'm amazed by again and again every day. Because of this boy I've had the best fall I can remember, quite possibly the best fall ever. I've carved pumpkins with him, found out I suck at bowling, and my family now has a Christmas tree reserved at the local tree farm for when we decide to put our tree up. Tomorrow I'll be at his house with his parents, his brother, and our friends, which is just another reason to be thankful. The bubble of people I'm thankful for has grown exponentially this year, and even though it now includes Noah, Nick, the Whites, and Madison, it's starting to get a kind of full I'm happy with.

I've grown so used to Jules being my only friend over the course of my high school career that I had pretty much forgotten what it's like to have a group of friends and go out and do stuff. Before this year I had never really experienced going out with a group to hang out besides a few group dates with Blake. The last time I had a real group of friends was the summer before high school started, so most of the times I've been in a group was in middle school transported by parents. This whole fall has been different for me, but it's definitely something I'm thankful for.

When I get to my house the all the lights of off except for a small lamp at the base of the staircase I know my mom left on so I could make it across the living room without running into anything. I don't know why, but seeing that light makes me happy. I may just be sentimental today, but the small gesture reminds me how much my mom love me.

As I walk up the staircase I don't realize where my feet are leading me until I'm standing in the doorway looking at the sleeping figures of my parents. My mom is curled up in a ball and my dad is behind her with one arm thrown over her shoulder looking like it's the most comfortable and natural thing in the world. I may be acting like a bit of a stalker tonight, looking in on everyone as they sleep, but I like to know the people I care about are safe. It's nice to be the one looking after everyone and checking in on them instead of having everyone check on me to make sure I'm okay. It's a responsibility I welcome, a maturity I've gained, and being able to look in on everyone tonight is one of the things I'm the most thankful for.