Finn Lennoy - August 2120
"Noah?" My voice carries through the house, steady on the surface, though something tightens low in my chest.
"Noah?" I call again, a little louder.
Nothing. He was here a moment ago. I could've sworn I heard him moving around.
I make another circuit through the rooms, his lab, the kitchen, even the rooms he never uses. Nothing. The place feels strangely hollow without him muttering equations under his breath.
He told me he'd stay here for a few days to focus on the nullifier. I'd tried to ask why all of a sudden, but Noah… well, when he doesn't want to talk, he shuts down like a locked vault. I didn't want to push him for an explanation, I was worried about being another pressure on him.
Honestly, I'd been relieved he chose to work from home. Here, at least, he sometimes remembers to sleep in a bed rather than curl up on that awful sofa in his office.
But the relief didn't last. He's barely left the lab since he arrived. When he does, it's only to collapse on his bed for a few hours before some anxious spark drags him back downstairs.
I've tried coaxing him out for fresh air, a walk, a proper stretch... anything. He always refuses, eyes haunted by stress he won't admit. All because of Mr Carr and that damned investors' summit.
If I could get away with it, I'd kill Carr for what he's done to him.
And now Noah's disappeared and I can feel the faint tremor of panic trying to push its way through my ribs.
I head into the garden again, breathing slowly, trying to stay centred. Maybe he wandered out here and fell asleep somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Noah?" I call as I scan the flower beds.
I'm about to try again when...
"Finn! Over here!"
His voice is not panicked and he doesn't sound hurt. Relief washes over me so sharply my knees nearly give way. But where the hell is he?
I follow the direction of his voice, but the sound bounces strangely. My steps take me toward the lab again, but I know he's not inside, I already checked twice.
"Where are you?" I ask.
"Behind the lab. Come here!"
Behind…? My brows pull together. I didn't even know there was a behind.
I squeeze between the hedge and the wall of the building, barely enough space for one person. When I reach the back, I stop.
There's a whole hidden area back here, backup generator, tanks, cables running into the wall. And...
A trap door?
I blink. Then walk closer.
"Noah… what exactly are you doing?"
I peer down into the hatch. A dim light glows below, shadows moving as he shifts. Then his face appears at the bottom, hair an absolute mess, clothes streaked with dust. He's wearing heavy gloves and pushes his builder's goggles up with his wrist, leaving a smear across his forehead.
"I just thought of a new idea" he calls up, as if that explains everything. "So I figured now was the best time to work on it!"
Of course he did.
Of course he's climbed into a hole in the ground to chase a spark of inspiration.
I exhale slowly, relief softening into something warm and familiar, fondness I should keep buried deeper than any trap door.
"At least you're not unconscious" I murmur to myself. Then a bit louder "Right. Well… I'm coming down."
I lower myself through the hatch, boots hitting the packed earth below. It's cooler here, the air dry with the smell of dust and old wood. The underground storage unit is bigger than I expected, more like a cleared out bunker than a storage room.
Noah stands in the centre of it, surrounded by tools, half-built panels, and chalk markings scribbled directly onto the concrete walls. He's moving quickly, too quickly, like his limbs can't keep up with his thoughts.
When he looks at me, there's a brightness in his eyes that makes my stomach drop. Not excitement and not his usual sharp genius.
It's feels too bright. Stretched and fractured at the edges.
"Noah" I say softly.
He doesn't seem to hear my tone, he's already turning back to a metal frame he's bolting into the wall.
"This is good" he mutters, voice low, fast. "It's coming together. It has to. It has to be ready incase they come."
Incase they come?
A chill slips down my spine.
"Noah… who's going to come?" I move closer, slow enough not to startle him.
He doesn't look up. "GeneX… my father. They're not as oblivious as people like to assume. Given the variables and my father knowing about it, it's only a matter of time before they deduce the nullifier's actual function. So we need a secondary plan prepared incase that happens."
His breathing is uneven. It's too shallow and fast.
He pushes past me, rummaging through a crate of wires, muttering to himself.
"They think they will be able to stop me, but they won't. Idiots. All of them. Always underestimating- always - always-"
He stops, gripping the edge of the crate so hard his knuckles go white.
I swallow gently."Noah… no one is going to find out. You're safe. You're at home and I will protect you no matter what."
At that, he lifts his head sharply and stares at me.
And for the first time, I see it fully, the disconnect, the way his eyes don't land quite right, the way he's listening to things I can't hear.
"No." The word comes out barely audible. "No, Finn, you're not understanding the situation." His hands tremble as he gestures around the bunker, the movement sharp, analytical even in panic. "They most likely already know. Think, Finn. Why do you think they're accelerating the nullifier schedule? Why is access to the Nexus becoming progressively restricted? Why do the tests fail regardless of the variable I adjust?"
He steps back, voice dropping to a thin, urgent whisper. "We won't have much time. I need to finish the tunnel. You go down there, and I'll seal it from the outside. It's the only configuration where you won't be detected."
He's trying to protect me?
The thought hits me like a punch. Even like this, in this confused, terrified state, his first instinct is to shield me.
"Noah" I say, stepping closer, slowly raising a hand. "You don't need to protect me. You need to take your medicine and rest. You haven't slept properly in days."
"I can't sleep." The words fire out too quickly, almost clipped. "I can't, don't you understand? If I stop, even for a few hours, the nullifier won't reach operational stability. And if it fails, they'll reassign the entire project to my father, and he'll dismantle everything."
His voice fractures, a sharp break in the controlled cadence. "Then all of it, every calculation, every model, every hour... it'll all be for nothing."
He presses both hands to his head, fingers clutching at his hair.
"I can't fail, Finn."
Something in me breaks. I move closer, close enough to touch him but waiting for permission in the small space between us.
"You're won't fail" I say quietly, gently. "You're just tired. You need help. Let me help you. We're in this together, remember?"
He flinches, stepping back, eyes wide.
"No. No, if you get involved they'll use you too. They always do. They'll find a weakness. They'll-" He stops suddenly, breath stuttering.
I place my hand over his, grounding him. His fingers tremble beneath mine.
"I'm not leaving you" I murmur, steady as I can manage. "Not now. Not ever."
His lips part like he wants to argue, or break, or both.
For a moment, the brightness in his eyes flickers. Just for a moment, he looks like Noah again.
"Finn…" he whispers.
I take a slow breath."Come upstairs with me. Just for a minute. You won't lose anything. Nothing will happen to your work. I promise."
He shakes his head violently. "You don't understand"
"I do." I take a step closer. "And I'm not letting anything hurt you. Not GeneX. Not deadlines. Not this… fear."
He sways, just slightly, then his knees buckle.
I catch him before he hits the ground.
His breathing is rapid and uneven against my shoulder.
"It's okay" I whisper, holding him up. "I've got you."
For the first time since I found him, he doesn't argue.
Noah's weight settles against me, far too light, far too limp for someone who usually carries himself with such rigid control. I tighten my grip around his back, slowing my breathing so he can feel it, lean into it, mirror it if his mind will let him.
"Easy" I murmur. "You're alright. I've got you."
He doesn't speak. His eyes stay half-open, unfocused, darting to corners of the storage room as if something is moving there. It makes my heart twist painfully.
I adjust my footing and start guiding him toward the ladder. He resists at first, just a stiffening of his shoulders, a small jerk backward.
"No, no, Finn, I told you, I can't stop"
"It's okay" I whisper, steady, calm, reassuring in a way I've practised a thousand times. "It's just a short break"
His grip on my arm loosens. Good. One step at a time.
When we reach the ladder, I manoeuvre him carefully, practised from too many nights dragging him back to bed after he passed out over his notes. I climb behind him, one hand near his waist so he can't fall, guiding him up slowly until we both reach the surface.
Once we're back in the cool evening air, Noah sags heavily against me, trembling faintly.
"You're safe" I whisper again as I steer him toward the house. "I promise."
Inside, everything is dim and quiet, the way he likes it when he's overwhelmed. I walk him to his bedroom, the one place he ever seems to properly allow himself to unravel. He sits on the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly like he's bracing for an impact only he can see.
"Noah" I say softly, crouching in front of him and slowly lifting his googles off his head. "Look at me."
It takes a moment, but his gaze lifts, frantic, clouded, exhausted.
"Your medication" I continue gently. "You need it tonight."
A flicker crosses his face, not anger, not refusal, something sadder. Something like shame.
"I… I don't want it" he murmurs. "It slows everything down. I can't afford to be slower."
"You can't afford to burn out either" I answer softly. "And that's what's happening. Your mind's running too fast, and it's scaring you. You don't have to go through it alone."
He swallows, throat bobbing and his hands shake.
I reach into the bedside drawer, the one he pretends I don't know he keeps stocked with his emergency meds. I take out the small bottle, open it quietly, place the tablets in his palm.
His hand hovers there, trembling.
"Noah" I whisper, covering his fingers gently with mine, grounding him, anchoring him. "You're not failing by taking this. You're doing what you need to be okay. Let me help you. Please."
His breath comes out in a tiny, broken quiver.
And then finally he nods.
He lifts the tablet to his mouth, swallowing it with the water I hold to his lips. When it's done, he exhales shakily, his shoulders slumping like he's just put down a weight he's been carrying for years.
"Good" I murmur, brushing a strand of dust-coated hair back from his forehead. "That's good, Noah."
He blinks slowly, sleep already tugging at him.
"Are you… staying?" his voice is small. Nothing like the Noah the world outside this house sees.
I slowly pull his gloves off and ease him back onto the pillows, pulling the blanket over him.
"Of course I'm staying" I whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."
He reaches out blindly, instinctive, unplanned, and his fingers hook weakly around my sleeve.
"Don't… leave" he breathes, already drifting.
My chest aches with how much I care for him.
"I won't" I promise, sitting beside him as his eyes close, his breathing deepens, and the medication finally begins to quiet the storm in his mind.
"I'm right here, Noah."
And I stay.
All night. If he needs me. Forever, if he asked.