Disclaimer: I do not own Adam, Lawrence, or Diana. I take credit for Bobby and Eric in this one. Also, all due respect to all those who died in the 9/11/01 attacks and their families. No words can express the depth of that tragic day and I would never hope that my attempt here could ever do it justice.
Author Note: I did promise angst didn't I? The purpose of this chapter is to delve more into Adam's past and the things that he has been hiding from Lawrence. I figure we resolved Lawrence's conflict with Alison and now it's time to let Adam be the adorably angsty one. He is good at that, after all, and Lawrence is good at being all sexy and comforting. Might as well let them shine. :)
When the planes struck the trade towers in New York City, everything stopped. All categories of feet, from Manolo Blahnics to old ratty sneakers, stopped in their tracks on the sidewalks and took their eyes off of their own lives and placed them on the falling skyline. The world was suddenly bigger. The business deals didn't matter anymore and the growing issue of skyrocketing taxes and material possessions became moot. Nothing mattered except for one simple thing – the thing that entered every New Yorkers mind the minute they saw their world tumble to the ground in a mound of concrete, ash, and bones - this is war.
Life has never been easy for Adam Faulker. From the time he was small he was forced into combat and learned quickly that the world was full of weapons that could either be used to hurt him or protect him. They were everywhere and consisted of everything from a stray screwdriver to the large block of concrete broken off from the corner curb. That block had been hurled at his head once. He kept it for a year afterward – one less weapon off the street and into his own war chest in the corner of his bedroom. When he was young it was his father who was the enemy. After he turned sixteen and ran away from home it was the rest of the world.
After the bathroom it became clear to Adam that the entire city of LA was one big death trap. So he swiped some rich guy's plane ticket and flew first class to New York – filling up on champagne and expensive food the entire way. He spent a few nights alone on the street before he met Eric and he quickly found an alliance filled with the homeless, runaways, and junkies. He never went so far as to trust them completely, most of them anyway, but they kept him company and gave him a false sense of security for a time. It wasn't until someone new showed up on their curb that even a false sense of security became moot. His name was Bobby and he went from a stranger to a friend to a brother and protector and eventually a sworn enemy in a matter of months.
Bobby was a weapon in himself and it wasn't until he aimed his scope at Eric that Adam pulled his weapons chest out for the last time.
Memories fade and, as Adam cuddles deeply into Lawrence's embrace on the couch, he does not even think about Bobby. There is nothing to think about really – except for Aladdin playing on the TV screen and Lawrence's proud smile as Diana cuddles against his other side. This is his life now. There is no more war chest and no more battles to fight. He goes to sleep feeling safe and wakes feeling the same.
He has the perfect fucking life.
Until the phones rings.
He groans sleepily against Lawrence's chest and fights the need to move. The cell phone sits on the coffee table in front of them and vibrates uncontrollably against the glass making an unpleasant rattling sound. Diana stirs from the other side of the couch and Lawrence looks down at Adam in amusement.
"Are you gonna get that or would you like me to?" Large fingers move through Adam's hair and massage his scalp in the way that makes him smile. He is so happy. So fucking happy. He should have known this was coming.
"Whoever it is it can't possible be as important as watching Aladdin kick Jafer's ass…..err I mean butt."
Lawrence laughs as the irritating noise ceases. Adam slumps back down next to him. Curse words are on standby with Diana around. Adam tries his best, but he suspects it might actually be easier to quit smoking than to quit cursing- there is no gum that stops the word 'fuck' from coming out of your mouth.
"Nice save." Lawrence leans down and kisses the top of his head. They sit in silence for another thirty seconds or so, Adam savoring the feeling of Lawrence's everything against his body, before the vibrations begin again.
"Fu….fudgcicle." He stops himself earlier this time and he feels Lawrence's chest heaving in silent heavy laughter. "Shut up man, I'm trying here."
"I know." He says after he has regained control of his diaphragm. "And I appreciate the effort. It's just hearing you say fudgecicle…" He starts to laugh again and Adam leans forward to grab the annoying interruption in front of them. He looks back at Lawrence and points the phone at him as a mock threat.
"Do I need to bring up your brilliant pirate role play idea?" Adam shakes his head in mock disgust and Lawrence glares in partial amusement and partial embarrassment. "Parrot feathers everywhere….and I mean everywhere."
"You wouldn't…"
"Oh, try me…."
They glare mockingly at each other for a few moments more before Lawrence leans back on the couch in submission.
The phone vibrates in his hand and he sighs as the 'unknown number' message pops up on the screen.
"Great….telemarketer." He hits a button on the phone and puts it to his ear. "Thank you for calling Adam Faulker, I'm currently enjoying a pleasurable evening with my hot gay boyfriend but I'm so eager to hear what you want to sell me today. Oh I hope it's vacuum bags…"
"Gay boyfriend huh? Always knew you belonged in boys town…" The voice is familiar and immediately sends chills throughout his entire body. His breath hitches in his chest and it's as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room into one giant vacuum. Painful memories seep through the self-constructed barrier in his head and an image of Bobby, bleeding out in the middle of the street, strikes him like lightening.
He must look like he feels because suddenly the warmth of Lawrence's hand is on his back and rubbing in a circular motion – the way he always does after Adam has a nightmare.
"Adam? Is everything ok?" Lawrence whispers as if afraid to wake him from his trance. Adam pulls all of the energy he has from within to force his head to nod in response.
Then, the voice on the phone speaks again – casual in a way that makes Adam's skin crawl. "Hey Adam, are you there? It's me, Bobby."
Adam shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair – waking himself from the state of shock.
"Hey, uh, hold on a second." He covers the phone with his palm and turns towards Lawrence. His blue eyes are endearingly concerned and Adam melts inside thinking that he has to lie to him. "Uh….it's just an old friend from the neighborhood. I'm gonna go talk in the other room….Diana and all." He gestures to the little girl still sleeping against her father's chest.
Lawrence looks only slightly relieved and gives a small smile before nodding in understanding. "OK."
Adam stands on wobbly legs and mourns the loss of warmth from Lawrence's body. Even that can't calm the chills running across his skin right now. He is, essentially, talking to a corpse. When he reaches their bedroom he shuts the door behind him and leans against it for support.
"Who the fuck is this and how the fuck did you get this number?" The words come out in bitter tangents as the anger from so many years ago reaches the surface again. He hears a laugh from the other end of the phone and feels nausea form from the pit of his stomach.
"Oh Adam, you were always the naïve one. You can get all kinds of information about anybody these days – phone number, address, employment status. Guess you never thought about looking your best buddy up, huh?"
Adam scoffs and begins pacing back and forth. "Fuck you! Whoever you are, just fuck you." He moves to hang up the phone when suddenly he hears something that he has to listen to.
"Cute little girl…your boyfriends kid. Remember how you used to share your food with homeless children? Poor little street rats…I always told you they were destined to become whores and dealers. Would've been better off just letting them starve."
He stops pacing and balls his hand into a rigid fist of fury. He squeezes his eyes tightly. This isn't Bobby. It can't be. And, even if it is, he can't cry in front of Bobby. He won't.
"OK. What the fuck do you want from me?"
There is a short silence before he responds. "Well don't make me sound like such a monster, bro. I just miss my best buddy. How's lunch tomorrow? The taco joint on 95th Street we used to pan handle at. We have a lot of lost time to make up for."
Adam nods and mumbles a short affirmative response. The phone clicks off and a dial tone replaces the silence. He moves to fling the phone at the wall but quickly remembers who's in the next room and stops his arm midway. Lawrence can't know about this. He would never look at him the same way ever again. Instead, Adam tucks the phone into his back pocket and wipes his eyes with his sleeve before moving towards the closed door.
He places a hand on the knob but promptly notices something and removes the appendage to examine it more closely. It is pale and white, like usual. He blinks a few times and realizes that the red tint he thought he saw was nothing but a memory of a day he never wanted to remember.
The day he killed Bobby.
There is a light tapping from outside the room and he shakes off the memory in time for the door to budge slightly. He looks up to see Lawrence's concerned blue eyes again. Diana must be in bed by now.
"Hey, you ok?"
Adam forces a smile and then buries himself in Lawrence's chest. Guilt plagues him for enjoying this so much but he doesn't care at the moment. He needs this.
After all, it may be the last time he gets to feel this happy.
"Can we go to bed now?" Lawrence rakes his fingers across Adams scalp and he loves every single minute of it.
"Of course. I love you, Adam." Adam just nods in response. He can't say the words right now even though he means them. Lawrence seems to understand and they lie down in the bed together with Lawrence's arms wrapped around Adam's body in a spooning position.
He won't sleep that night, but at least he can bask in the comfort of his fucking perfect life for a few precious hours before the war chest comes out again.