| 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍 | 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐗 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐂

Chapter 12

When Noah awoke three things immediately came to mind; It was probably around 6 pm since the sun was setting, his head was in Five's lap and Five was subconsciously twirling one of his curls between his fingers, and his headache was killing him. He wasn't embarrassed about having a panic attack in front of Five, he had witnessed it on multiple occasions, but he did feel ashamed that he cried over the stupidest thing. Every time he complained about being too emotional, Five would always say that he just has a big heart and too much trauma.

But in Noah's opinion that wasn't a good excuse for being a baby.

When Ben noticed Noah's scars for the first time when they were kids, he went to Reginald about it. Reginald didn't do anything about it, instead, he scoffed and told Ben that as long as he wasn't killing himself he didn't care. Noah had unfortunately overheard their conversation that day and locked himself in his room for a couple of days.

Noah spoke up, "I'm sorry." He mumbled under his breath.

Five looked down at Noah and stopped playing with his hair, "Oh, look who's up." He joked, ignoring Noah's apology.

Eight sat up and faced Five, "You must be so sick of me." he sighed, shaking his head and looking down at his lap.

Five chuckled, "Really? Where'd you hear that?" Noah just shrugged and Five gave him a look, putting the jokes aside. "I could never get sick of you, Noah. You're my best friend."

"I know." He muttered sadly. "Thanks."

"For what?"

Noah looked up, "Being my friend, dealing with all my bullshit, helping me with my anxiety for all these years."

Five smiled, "Any time."

Noah chuckled and looked out the windshield, "Find our guy yet?" he asked, trying to change the subject before it got awkward.

Five huffed, "Nope."

Noah nodded and looked in the back of the car for something to do. He gasped and reached for something, he pulled it out of a pile of junk, "MP3 player!"

"Does it work?"

Noah put in the headphones and turned it on, he picked a song and beamed up at Five, "Yep. I'm keeping this." He announced.

Five snickered, "Alright. Have fun with your music then."

"Oh, I will." Noah smiled, talking a bit louder than he should from the music in his ears being so loud.

. . .

Half an hour later the sun was still partially out but it was getting darker by the minute. Five hadn't taken his eyes off of the building and was rolling the fake eye in his hand, and Noah had his music so loud that Five could hear it through the headphones. Eight was mouthing along to the songs and bopping his head, occasionally he would switch to humming but would stop when Five would glance at him, obviously annoyed.

Noah picked up a juice box from the pile Five swiped onto the floor and stuck the straw in it. A couple of minutes passed and Noah threw his empty juice box to the floor, he was about to grab the pack of Oreos but stopped himself and stared at it, his hand hovering above it. He thought he heard knocks on the window but assumed it was just his music and decided that he should just stick to drinking water from now on.

The knocking continued and then he heard his and Five's names being called. He turned his head to look out his window and got jump-scared by Luther's face. He shrieked and punched the glass on instinct, his MP3 player falling off his head. Little did he know that he helped Five out of one of his PTSD flashbacks.