Because I thought this angle was interesting, and didn't see anyone beat me to the punch.
She was beautiful. She was vibrant.
Most importantly, she was alive.
She danced across Adam's screen, body turning and hips swaying to the music. Somewhere inside his mind, Adam was screaming already, because he knew, he knew what was going to happen, he had to warn her, tell her to run...
But he couldn't. He just watched, and chatted, and waited.
Waited for her to die.
"What's your name?"
He already knew, of course: Sass Dumonde. He already knew so much about her... Too much.
She laughed. "If I told you," she said teasingly, "then I'd have to kill—"
Then the cord wrapped around her slim, pretty neck.
The spell was broken. Adam pounded on his screen, as if it were a window, as the beautiful and vibrant and dying Sass Dumonde struggled with her assailant. Her face whipped by the camera, yet it was as though everything moved
Help me, Adam
in slow motion. He saw and heard it all: the gagging coming out of her throat, the light dying in her eyes. His fingers dug into the screen; he pushed, and it gave way a little under his fingers. He could almost reach her, he could almost
Help me, Adam
touch her, he could almost save her...
The laptop fell to the floor. So did Sass Dumonde. Her eyes were wide, staring, unseeing, her lips parted, a fleck of froth clinging to them. The killer bent down and stared straight at Adam through the camera (wait, did that really happen?). An unmistakable grin formed under the ski mask. He gave a thumbs up, then left the apartment — left the laptop and the camera behind, left it pointed straight as Sass Dumonde's beautiful dead
Why didn't you help me, Adam
face,
I needed you, Adam
those lifeless eyes
Why didn't you save me
"Geez!"
Adam had learned from TV and movies that you were supposed to sit up bolt upright, screaming. But no, that wasn't how it actually worked, at least not for him. His eyes simply snapped open, his heart pounding in his ears. His legs were stuck together with sweat under his sheets.
Rubbing his face, he closed his eyes again, trying to focus his mind, banish the eyes
Help me, Adam
and the plea. Okay, it was the second night of his suspension from the lab. He'd just spent the better part of the evening drinking beers and playing video games with Sheldon. When he'd left, Adam had said he was fine, because that was what you were supposed to say, right?
He lay there for a long while, eyes still closed, hoping yet not hoping that sleep would overtake him again. When he finally opened his eyes again, no closer to dropping off, he glanced at his alarm clock and groaned. Three in the goddamn morning. He sat up in bed and switched on the light, blinking back the spots in his eyes.
He had to talk to someone. He had to. Or at least he had to try; who the hell would be up at three in the—
Maybe the parents of a young child...?
Dare he hope?
Help me, Adam
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and started to tap in an autodial number. But before he could finish, he hesitated. He would listen to Adam, sure, but how much would he understand? Sure, he'd faced death — they all had, in at least some small way — but this... this was different.
Her, on the other hand...
Adam swallowed through a dry throat. He had to. He had to at least try.
He dialed the number.
He listened to the phone trill once, then twice. Just as he decided that this was a stupid idea, what was he thinking, calling at three in the morning, he should just hang up now and try to go back to bed like an adult here, the connection opened.
"Hello?"
Her voice was strong, steady, not at all fuzzy with sleep. Adam couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Hey, Linds. I'm sorry, I... Did I wake you up?"
"No, I was awake already," Lindsay said wryly. "Hazards of a two year old with an active imagination. I just got her back to bed." He heard the whisper of cloth rubbing against cloth in the background, a soft squeak — sitting down on a couch, maybe? "What's up?"
"I, uh..." Oh, God, it was only now hitting him what a colossally bad idea this was. He was about to drag Lindsay down with him. He really should make some excuses (maybe butt-dial?) and hang up right now...
"Adam, seriously," Lindsay said. "What's the matter? Should I wake up Danny, or...?"
"No!" he burst out before he could think. "I... It was you I wanted to talk to."
"Okay..." More whispers of cloth. "What's wrong, Adam?" There was an odd note to her voice, as if she already knew the answer. It'd be really really convenient if it were, because then he'd be able to avoid the awkwardness of starting this conversation in the first place, but he knew he couldn't just assume.
"Well, uh..." Dammit, there really was no good way to bring this up, was there? "You, um... you had something... bad happen to you when you were a kid, right?" He winced to himself. Way to go, Ross. 'Something bad.' God, could you have picked a worse way to put it?
"Yes..." For some reason, Lindsay didn't sound at all offended; her tone hadn't changed one iota. It was gentle, expectant. That buoyed him more than he expected, and somehow he found the strength to stumble on.
"Did it ever... stop?"
"Did what stop?" Again, that odd note.
Help me, Adam
"Did you ever stop... thinking about it? Dreaming about it? Wondering if there was something you could've done differently... maybe kept it from happening?"
There was a silence on the other end. The longer it went on, the more Adam's feet fidgeted under his sheets. I knew it. This was a stupid idea, I never should have—
"I haven't stopped," Lindsay's voice said, nearly causing Adam to literally jump. "Not completely. It... those memories are a part of me now, Adam, for better or worse. I can never take them back or undo what I saw."
"But...? Please tell me there's a but."
"But..." He could almost hear her smile on the other end. "You don't stand still. You can't; life won't let you. You've changed, yes, but you rediscover who you are, what you want. And... you gain new memories. Good ones. Really good ones, actually. You meet new people, people who become your friends, people who'll stand by you and support you... Even fall in love..." Yeah, that was definitely a smile there. "And eventually... the memories sort of fade into the background. I'm not saying that it's easy, or that they don't come up again every once in a while, or that it's the same for everyone... All I'm saying is that it's possible. It's possible to find a point where the memories don't dominate your every waking moment anymore. It's possible to live again."
Adam exhaled. He had no idea what he expected or hoped to hear, but whatever it was, this...
This was... okay.
"Okay. Thanks, Linds."
"Are you going to see someone?"
"Yeah, I probably will. I just... I thought you... You might know what..."
"I do." Another silence, this one not nearly as heavy as the last. "You did everything you could."
"Yeah." He'd been told that, over and over, by so many people. He still wasn't sure if he believed it or not.
"It wasn't about you. If it wasn't you, it could've been any one of a million people online, and they probably wouldn't have had the knowledge and experience to help catch her killer."
"I know that, I just—"
"I know." That, he believed. With all his heart, he believed. "You want to talk some more?" He heard her stifle a yawn, but he had no doubt that she'd stay awake as long as he wanted her to.
"I..." He paused to assess what was going through his mind. A lot of it was jumbled still, but he didn't hear her anymore... Not now anyway. "Maybe later. You go get some sleep."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Just remind Danny I'm gonna kick his butt at pickup basketball tomorrow."
"Anytime, okay?" Her voice turned serious, as though she was talking to a suspect. "Seriously, even if Lucy doesn't get me up. Got it?"
Adam rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Yeah. Got it."
"Good night, Adam."
"Good night, Linds." He thumbed at his phone screen and ended the call.
He sighed, leaning back against the pillows propped up behind him. He made no movement to turn off the light. Instead, he just closed his eyes and cleared his head. Well, maybe not quite clearing: he thought of all the work that was undoubtedly piling up at the lab waiting for him to return. He thought of Lindsay cradling Lucy, cooing to her and singing to her to get her back to sleep. He thought of three point shots and video pinball.
He didn't think of Sass Dumonde.
And eventually, he slipped off into dreamless sleep. He wasn't smiling as he did, but... close enough.
