A new message. Someone just texted him.
Adam dips his hand in his pocket and fishes out his phone. As soon as he unlocks the screen, the new text pops up with Michael's name on the top bar. He just blinks stupidly at it for two seconds before he remembers he actually has to read what Michael texted him. He tilts his eyes down tiredly but with a fresh sense of anticipation as well.
The hour is too late to call but I still need to tell you. Dean was here this evening after you left. He had the business card from the agency. I think he rummaged through our pockets when he entered the flat secretly in the morning. Adam please be careful. He might go to look for you there. Call me when you see this text?
Of course.
Up until now, Adam didn't even question how Dean knew to go to Juliet&Angels. So that's how he found out about the place. By going through their pockets like a true Winchester. Suddenly he remembers the suit jacket he shrugged off his shoulders as if trying to cleanse himself the moment he stepped into Michael's living room and carelessly threw somewhere. His phone, wallet and keys were in the inner pockets. And in his wallet, there were a few of those cards hidden between biometric pictures, coupons and store cards. For a whole minute he spends deeply breathing, Adam can't decide whether to be angry at himself for being so idiotic to carry the cards or Dean for taking the audacity to do something like that.
Both, he decides as he rereads the text.
Who knows how Michael must have felt, alone and with the man he least wanted to see on his door again after only a few hours. If Adam knows Dean even a little, he can guess what kind of conversation that was. Who knows how Michael is feeling now. And why is he even awake at this hour anyway? Did he stay up thinking about all of that and how to tell Adam about what Dean did all this time since the evening? Is he doing okay now? Did Dean go overboard and upset him? How awful it must be to be in his place this instant.
Adam looks back down on the screen and takes a deep, slow breath. Having made his mind after only a few seconds of consideration, he presses the call button. It only rings once before Michael picks up and Adam puts the call on speaker not feeling strong enough to move his arm to hold the phone up to his ear now.
For three seconds or so, they both stay silent and listen to each other's breathing. In the end, Adam decides to say something first. "Are you okay, Michael? What did he do?" He forgoes greetings. A terrible feeling in his clenched gut tells him the situation is worse than he first thought. It only confirms that when Michael answers.
"Adam-" Michael shuffles around wherever he is as if trying to sit upright to talk. "-I didn't think you would call back immediately. I- I am fine. Not having a panic attack or something. He came back, Adam. He had- he had a card of the agency. I just wanted to warn you. He might go there. Your friends might tell you. I didn't want you to- to panic or…" Michael trails off with a sigh at the end. Adam notices the difference between Michael's voice now and how he sounds normally. The man could simply be tired, the hour is late but- Actually it does make sense that Michael would be resigned. It makes sense that he wouldn't have the words to even talk about Dean and his bullshit after everything that happened in just the last few days. But…
"Michael, did you- Did you take something? A heavy dose of medication? You said your new therapist didn't prescribe anything but you still had pills left, is that right? Did you maybe-" He tries to word it carefully. He tries to talk slowly. Honestly, even he isn't sure himself why he thought of this possibility first right after hearing Michael's voice. Maybe he is wrong. Maybe he is looking for problems because he convinced himself that Michael is unwell. Maybe he shouldn't have asked this. Michael interrupts him anyway.
"No. I- I have pills. But- I just… drank a little. I can't- I remembered them but I can't with the alcohol in my system. I- It wasn't much. Don't worry, Adam. Please don't worry. You have enough of those. I am- I am okay. How are you?"
Drank a little.
So that rules out an overdose on antidepressants at the very least. Adam doesn't know if it is any better or not though. "How much, Michael? Are you sure you will be alright?" Adam tries to sound as gentle as possible. Something about the way Michael is also carefully speaking and more than that, the fact he chose to drink in the first place tells Adam that he very much isn't alright. The long pause before Michael's next words imply that either the older man is trying to come up with a lie to soothe Adam's mind or that he isn't feeling well enough to keep a long conversation going. Neither is okay.
"I will- I am just a little… tired. Adam I am- I am tired."
Tired.
That word alone is enough to trigger a flood of memories in Adam's mind. He thinks of the day his mother died. He thinks of the funeral where he couldn't do anything but to sit on the sofa and silently cry with his face buried in his hands. He thinks of his aunt, the woman's almost Oscar worthy acting to trick the CPS just for the money. He thinks of the small room he stayed in with five other boys during highschool. He thinks of John Winchester, how Adam used to pray for the man to turn out someone good and to take him away from his aunt when he was shivering too bad to go to sleep in that room. Then he learned that his father already had a wife and kids. He learned that he was only a charity case to suppress guilt.
Adam thinks of the other funeral. He was eighteen and had nothing other than a backpack with a change of clothes, pyjamas and a sandwich and a bottle of water just in case. He was in front of this nice family house with a ticket to a bus to his aunt's for the next day in his pocket and a heavy feeling in his chest. Then a middle aged man was ushering him inside with a warm hand on his shoulder. The woman was- "He has a right to say goodbye too, doesn't he? But Bobby I don't think I can do this." Just like that, Mary Winchester went upstairs with fresh tears dropping down her cheeks at the mere sight of Adam.
Adam thinks of Sam and Dean. He thinks of the way they stared at him, Sam with curiosity and Dean with open distaste and fury. He remembers how Sam half dragged Dean away to another room then sat next to Adam on a chair. Later, they watched as Dean went to check on his mom not forgetting to throw a nasty look their way. They watched people going around chatting about John Winchester and about his poor wife who loved him so much. I wish we met on a nicer day. Dad- He mentioned you sometimes. I wanted to come over with him and meet you before but- And Dean- He isn't really mad at you. It's- He knows nothing's really your fault. Sorry on his behalf. We all- We all lost our dad today.
That was it. The first words ever that he heard from his brother. His mind wasn't working properly. He couldn't process anything. Only, he knew he wasn't actually welcome in that house. He could feel the looks prickling his skin. He was in another family's house mourning another's loss. He didn't belong there. Everyone knew. Mary Winchester knew. Sam and Dean too. That Bobby too. Maybe other guests thought he was simply someone's kid or Sam's friend or… But no. Adam was a stranger. An outsider. Everyone knew.
He thinks of his first day in college. He thinks of the new dorm room he moved into from simply another one. He thinks of the months he spent half starving and trying to squeeze in part-time jobs that paid barely enough to buy clothes and food and maybe his most necessary books if he could find second hand copies. He thinks of Kevin. He thinks of the night he spent trying to find a way out and trying to muffle his sobs biting into his pillow.
Once morning came, Adam still had no choice. He remembers the first moment he stepped into that penthouse. Like a deer caught between predators, he was trembling from head to toe. The men and women scrutinising him were scary, Crowley even more so. The man raised a brow, looked him up and down but still decided to try him probably because Kevin had vouched for him beforehand. He still can't forget the hours he spent crying because of what he would be doing and hating himself for feeling glad that he wouldn't have to drop out of school.
Adam thinks of his first client. He thinks of how Kevin helped him prepare, lending him a tight fitting shirt and explaining the procedure about the security check-ins over and over again. He thinks of that man whose face he has long forgotten. At least it wasn't his first time. At least the man was older by a couple decades and was easy to satisfy. He had lucked out. His next few dates were mostly similar too. He did everything he was supposed to, didn't fight with anyone even though some tried to occasionally pick up on him at the agency, listened when Crowley talked and slowly got used to it all. Soon, he was proving himself to be good at his work with the way the clients asked for him again and again and even paid extra if they were in a good mood.
He thinks of the two whole years of his life spent running between his classes, the penthouse and the various houses and hotels. He thinks of the way Crowley laughed at him when he heard Adam wanted to be a doctor but placed a desk in one of the spare rooms a few days later when Adam returned to the agency after three hours with a client at two a.m. with the dorm's curfew past and fell asleep on a leather couch with a biology book clutched to his chest. He woke to the next morning with his alarm at eight, showered and changed into a shirt he left in his small dresser in one of the changing rooms and jeans from Kevin's then to his surprise, got a tuna and egg salad sandwich one of the other escorts made before being dropped to the campus by another because the older woman had an errand that way anyway. That night was probably when he finally earned at least sympathy from everyone at the agency if not more. From then on, he started taking his books with himself and studying there too. The others shared food with him even introducing him to his favorite burger place and gave him space in the room with the desk. His few closest friends cheered for him everytime he got an A and Adam even Crowley patted his head much like one would a child's once.
Just like that, Adam got used to it all. He got an apartment and a car for himself even though he used cabs for work. He studied wherever whenever he could and passed his classes. He got clothes, learned to choose perfume and to always carry what little item he might need for a date with a client. He learned about the nightworld and the different profiles of men he met. He got bold and strong enough to endure everything once he set up his savings account to pay for his tuition and he let himself go. He buried that scared kid alive and became just the kind of goods clients would want just so he could keep his hopes to reach his dream.
Adam thinks of all the bad days, everything. He thinks of the last few weeks. He thinks of… himself.
Tired.
He makes his mind.
Only half an hour later, he is parking his car in front of the well familiar building and dialing up Michael again to open the door. He is thankful now that he last parked his car at the campus before the mess with his almost wedding and Benny brought it back for him at first opportunity. He is also thankful for the spare set of keys Benny always kept around and allowed Adam to use during grocery runs or something.
When Michael opens the door with a pale face and sunken shoulders, Adam instantly worries that the older man lied about taking something but quickly discards the idea when he sees no bottle of pills anywhere in sight in the living room next to the two empty cans on coffee table and notices that Michael can stand and keep eye contact. Only two. Adam briefly remembers an article on the subject and lets out a relieved sigh. It thankfully isn't anything dangerous. For a moment, he even feared that Michael could go and give himself an alcohol poisoning going overboard. Fortunately that's not the case. "I… apologize for worrying you, Adam. I am- I really- Did I wake Benny too? Sorry-"
"Not at all. I guess I" Adam sighs there and averts his gaze. "needed to be with someone too. I left Benny a note. We, uh, stayed up really late. He is tired." A different look crosses over Michael's face but disappears before Adam can try to deduce what it is.
They don't say much afterwards. Adam wants to tell Michael about his and Benny's little trip to the agency but deems it inappropriate now when his friend looks as if a truck went over him. So instead, he cleans up the empty cans and makes them bacon sandwiches. Eating something sounds good now.
Michael wakes up on his bed and can't remember how he got there for a minute. Then it dawns on him.
Adam.
Quietly, he gets up and checks the living room first before even washing his face. He creaks the door to his study next then walks into the kitchen to find a sticky note on the fridge door with a bowl of overnight oats covered in plastic wrap and a jug of homemade juice next to it in the fridge.
Sorry. Got an early class tomorrow. :) Things I need are at Benny's. Still gotta get clothes and books too. See you for shopping maybe?
Although finding himself alone is a bit disappointing, Michael finds he doesn't, in the slightest bit, feel so. He smiles at the note and takes the bowl out.
In the morning, Adam walks downstairs to Benny in his favorite apron and a plate of warm pancakes. He yawns, the meager three hours he got nowhere nearly enough to function properly but he knows how to make do with the years of experience in finals week and… his job was usually during night so a few classes and a shopping trip before a well deserved nap in the afternoon isn't something he can't handle.
"Rise and shine, I would say but brother looks like you're not rising any time soon." Benny places the plate in front of him immediately when Adam sits on the dining table then joins him with another. Adam chuckles at the horrible orange apron with a cartoon vampire printed in the front and steals a slice of banana from the older man's plate.
"Not my fault that the first day of school after just ten days isn't exciting enough to be bolting out of bed and dancing on my way to class early in the morning." He yawns again more for show than the urge and accepts a warm mug passed over by a warm hand. Benny smiles and shakes his head at him and Adam shrugs.
"You didn't wake me last night. Was Michael… is he doing okay?" With the question, they both go serious. Adam inhales slowly and takes a sip of his coffee Benny no doubt made for him because the older man himself isn't much of a fan of caffeine.
"He is fine. I was scared a little when I drove over too but there was nothing like I feared. Maybe the last few weeks and… you know, all the stress from stuff is finally catching up to him now." Adam takes another sip and Benny turns the words in his head before slowly nodding. He doesn't say or ask anything else. For over five minutes, they simply eat. Adam only manages to muster the courage to breach that other topic they haven't yet talked about then.
"Benny-" He waits until the soft blue eyes find his own. "-thank you. Last night- I wasn't on my right mind, I think. I tried to- I feel bad for what I did there. If- I wouldn't regret it if we had but- But still… Thank you."
Benny cracks another smile after a few seconds and places his hand on Adam's on the table. "I understand, cher. Just don't be so hard on yourself all the time, all right? You deserve to be happy without forcing yourself to things you don't really feel like doing. You know I wouldn't ever take it personally or hold it against you. You are having a rough time with almost everything in your life. You didn't mean to use me as a distraction. You didn't really believe I would leave you if I didn't get anything from you like almost everyone else you know. Yesterday was hard. I am just glad you are feeling better and that Michael is okay too. This will all pass, alright?"
How, Adam would have asked himself once. Now, he knows it's pointless. Adam glances at Benny. His hand curls into a fist around the paper bag. Indeed, love is bound to run out. What will happen to them then? Wasn't this exactly what he thought when he- And here Benny is, understanding him again and not being mad at him.
Adam can't help but to take the larger hand in his and squeeze once before he shovels down his breakfast and runs to his car as Benny gets ready to go check his diner out.
As he is on his way to the campus, he is startled with the sudden ringing of his phone on the passenger seat. Before he can take the phone to see who is calling, it stops and a text pops up on the screen. Adam stops and pulls the car to the side once he sees the contact name.
Sam.
Can we meet please? I want to talk to you, Adam.