Rebirth – Chapter 17: Drink

-Notes-

Kaliska Vanka: Date XP Aw, isn't it sappy? Yeah, there's really no way in hell that Larry could be driving by this point, but hey, the magical world of fiction, right?

Merry-2004: Wait no longer! Abra-ca-chapter. Once they see each other, they won't be able to help but have mad, passionate sex, right? Let's find out. :D

AngelGardian666: Oh yes! Let's get them just a tad bit drunk and see what happens! XD

Bell Pie: Aw, thank you. I'm really glad you guys are all so patient—it makes things much easier to work with. I, too, think it would be overly unrealistic if they went into it right away. Give it time to…sink in. :)

This…is the longest chapter…anywhere…ever. --dies--

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Lawrence leaned down a little to gaze up from the windshield of his car at the building he'd been directed to, according to the address he held in his hand. Not the nicest part of town, but he was quite aware that Adam was probably less than wealthy. It was already getting somewhat dark outside, and he found himself a little nervous. But then that was a sort of pious thing to be feeling…Poor rich prick in the poor part of town, worried about getting mugged or attacked. He grumbled inwardly at himself.

He stepped out of the car with a small jolt of pain in his leg, taking with him the one crutch that he had been using. As a doctor, he knew he should play it safe and use both, but as a doctor, he was also inherently stubborn and considered as such to be more of a nuisance than he cared to handle. One crutch provided enough support to walk, and that was all that mattered to him. He made his way to the building's fore in what was, to him, an agonizingly slow pace.

It had been days since he'd seen Adam, and he wondered whether he was coming out here because he really was bored and just wanted to call on a friend, or if he was merely checking up on him. But if that was his goal, he could've just ended it at the phone call, couldn't he? Maybe he just had to see for himself. He doesn't need you to look in on him, you know. He told himself. Maybe I just want to spend some time with him is all. Reasoned the other part of him. After all, he had a right. What else was he supposed to do, sit around at home all day? Any other doctor would've answered that question with a resounding 'yes', but that was still the last thing he wanted to do. Not that he didn't appriciate being home, but while Diana and Allison were out, he was left alone with the T.V. and not much else. Of course, that didn't really explain why he was out now. Allison and Diana were both home for the day…

As he made it to Adam's supposed floor, he took in his surroundings in a memorizing fashion. So this must be it. Where Adam lived, alone. He aimlessly began wondering about a few pointless things like how long he'd been living here or what the rent would be on his kind of a place. How much did Adam earn from his trade, anyway? Enough, he assumed. The hallway was relatively quiet, save for the sound his foot produced as it hit the floor and the muffled blare of a radio from behind someone's closed door. He took another curious look around and scanned the numbers on the door before he found the right one. Taking a deep breath, he held up a hand and knocked twice on the door. There was nothing for a moment, then a few indications of movement from within. A click and something of a creak sounded as the door opened.

Lawrence gaped at Adam's appearance. He looked terrible…Eyes dark and form looking gaunt and unstable. It was painfully clear that it had been some time since he'd slept, and another long period since he'd eaten something decent. The scent of ciggarette smoke was heavy in the air and had settled on hm. It was like he'd completely forgotten how to keep himself going, and he was paying a heavy price for it. "Hey." He said, studying Lawrence in much the same way as he himself was being studied. "You found the place."

"…Yeah." Lawrence muttered, still staring at him.

"Well you look good." Adam decided, stepping out of the apartment and shutting the door. "Uh, better than last time."

"I've been eating. And sleeping. You'd be surprised how much good those things can do you." He said, voice with an almost undetecable sardonic edge.

If Adam caught it, he ignored it, busying himself with locking his door. "It's just…um, I didn't really think you'd be up and walking so soon."

"I'm a quick healer." Lawrence replied, stepping back as Adam turned. "Listen, why don't we forget the drink? Let's go somewhere, I'll buy you something to eat."

"I'm fine, I don't…" Adam shook his head, shoving his keys down into his pocket. "Er, I ate."

"You're a horrible liar, Adam." Lawrence rolled his eyes. "Come on. There's a quick diner around here somewhere."

Adam snorted and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "…Yeah, okay, if that's what you want. But this isn't a date, man, I'll buy my own dinner."

Lawrence chuckled and nodded, motioning for Adam to follow…

It was only a matter of minutes before they were sitting in said diner, just as the sun had fallen away. Lawrence didn't even recall the name of it, but he thought he must've been here once or twice before, a long time ago. That was hardly the point, though.

Adam sat in a slumped manner as he tapped the side of his head idly with the bottle of beer in his hand, letting out a sigh every now and then apparently so as not to yawn. In a way he reminded Lawrence of Diana, when she was trying to pretend that she wasn't tired because she was too stubborn to admit it. This, however, was far more sad than cute. "So what are you gonna do about the job?" Lawrence asked after a while of watching him feign his alertness.

Adam looked up, taking a drink and setting it down before resting his elbow on the table. "I don't know." He heaved another husky sigh. "I don't exactly have what you would call a career plan."

"Hm." Lawrence nodded, tracing the rim of his cup with a thumb. "Well what did you want to do? You know, I mean…when you first started out on your own?"

Adam thought, pricking at the ends of his hair. "I guess I…I don't know. I've always been big on photography and all that crap…I thought maybe I could get a job with a magazine company or something?"

"Sure. So you like pictures, alright." Lawrence said approvingly. "So…what stopped you?"

"Fuck, I don't know." He looked away and took another drink. "Sometimes things just don't work out, you know?"

"…I know."

"I-I…I figured that um…It was a gig. I picked it up. Didn't think it would last that long. It was a good way to get some cash. Maybe it was sort of a sick job, but people were willing to pay and it was about the only thing I could do. No one wants to look at another damn sunset. But they'd jump on a photo of their wife kissing another dude, or their husband picking up a hooker. And it's a consumer ruled market…" he gave what looked like a shameful shrug and sank down slightly in his seat.

"I see." Lawrence looked up as the waitress came by, setting down their plates. "Thanks."

"Little late for breakfast, hm?" she asked as she put down Adam's plate, referring to his order of pancakes, eggs, and toast.

"Yeah…or early?" he said in what might have been a joke, but was put a little too gloomily. Lawrence almost laughed at the tone, but deemed it inappropriate with the mood as it was.

With a nod she was gone, leaving them again to their conversation. "Look, I know it was a lousy way to earn a check. Profession for the scum you pick up off the streets when you want to do a job but you don't want to get your hands dirty."

"No you're not…" Lawrence attempted to assuage him, looking down at his plate unimpressed. His appetite hadn't been the same since…well. Since it.

"You don't consider ruining other people's lives for a living a bad trait?" Adam snorted as he prodded a fork into his pancakes.

"I don't know. You're really sure that you ruined so many?" Lawrence watched him messily choke down a large bite.

"What would you call it?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Maybe you helped some people out. Would you be happy if you're spouse was cheating on you for years and no one ever told you?" Lawrence suggested.

Adam was silent for a moment before swallowing. "Sometimes living a lie's better than living in shambles."

"No, Adam." Lawrence felt a bitter laugh in his chest. "Trust me. It's not."

"How can you say that, man?" Adam bit down on his lip and averted his eyes. "I mean…you know what I almost…did to you."

"Maybe I can just see it from a fair perspective." He reasoned.

"So then how can you be so," Adam laughed weakly. "unbias?"

"Who says I'm not bias?" Lawrence smirked, reaching for his Coke. "Maybe I'm just saying that because I like you."

Adam chuckled and stared down at his eggs for a moment. "Yeah, okay."

"I think you're too hard on yourself." Lawrence decided, stirring his soup.

"You can never be too hard on yourself." Adam countered.

"Who told you that?" he demanded.

Adam shrugged.

"…You're a good person."

"You don't know me." Adam said indignantly, but with an ounce of despair.

"Then who does?"

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. "…At least one person." Adam recalled darkly. "And he agreed with me, too."

Lawrence felt something sink in his chest at the disheartening thought. He knew who Adam was talking about, and he hated the idea. "He didn't know you at all." Lawrence said sternly.

"Really. He sure seemed to have me fucking pinned."

"That's what made him a psychotic." He reminded. "He didn't know you, Adam. He didn't know me. We're not the people he said we are. If we were, we'd be dead."

He watched as Adam shivered and unconsciously rubbed his wounded arm. "Sure." He muttered.

Lawrence gave a mental sigh and went back to studying his soup. Young and impressionable. He thought sarcastically. Damn that fucking lunatic… He looked up again at Adam, who was dizzily rubbing his head and clutching his beer tight in one hand. "Hey…you okay?"

"Fine." He replied thickly.

"…When's the last time you slept, anyway?" Lawrence brought up again.

"Hey man, I thought we talked about this doctor thing." Adam glared at him.

Lawrence held up a hand in defeat, backing down. "Well then…so that means your done with the career? If you hate it so much."

"Yeah, I…well I guess so." He nodded. "I just…don't know what to do now."

"Hm…"

"It's just something you fall into, like I said. Not like I mapped it all out, not like…okay, like a doctor." He gestured an opened hand out at Lawrence.

"I don't think you'd wanna be a doctor." He disagreed.

"At least you help people. People other than yourself." Adam sat back and folded his arms.

"Mm. You might be surprised." Lawrence confessed. "…I mean you'd be surprised how little I actually… helped people. I did my job, but now always with compassion. I didn't always care. In fact, lately, I've almost never cared. It sort of became just a job to me. Not all doctors are in it for the moral duty, you know? A lot are in to give themselves a purpose, or money, or maybe even because they're pressured into it."

"Why did you sign up?" Adam asked curiously, glancing at him.

"…I had good intentions to begin with. I really did. I was a kid, I thought I could make some divine difference, or whatever you wanna call it. I don't know when I stopped feeling that way. I mean I still cared whether people lived or died, it's just…I'm not sure it was for the right reasons…That's the price you pay, I guess. You hear about those big, hotshot doctors with their wealth and their esteem who end up losing their humanity. Maybe I wasn't that far off from them."

"Then it's official." Adam raised his drink slightly. "Life sucks no matter who you are."

Lawrence lifted his glass also. "…Sure. I'll drink to that." He knocked it once against Adam's.

"Better start lookin' for work." Adam mumbled, taking a swig. "Hey, wonder if this place is hiring."

"Come on, you can do better." Lawrence objected. "If you're serious about the photo thing…why don't you put together a portfolio or something? Get a job with a magazine, like you said."

"Tried that." Adam informed, looking increasingly distant. "Nothing but 'no thank you's and 'please fuck off's."

"You couldn't've tried everywhere. Maybe…well maybe I can help you." He took a drink of his Coke and pushed his soup aside, deciding to give up on it.

"What would you know about it?"

Lawrence thought. "A few years back I wrote an article for some magazine…I still have the sources somewhere. But I know a guy. Maybe I could…"

"No, man, that's okay." Adam waved a hand to stop him. "I can take care of myself, it's good."

"Don't be stupid, it's no problem. I'm sure he'd be interested." Lawrence protested.

Adam gave a lengthy pause, seemingly contemplating the idea. "N…No, I couldn't ask you to…"

"You didn't ask; I offered." He pointed out.

"Okay, then I'm declining."

"Too late. Putting in a good word anyway." Lawrence said. Adam made a face and Lawrence grinned.

"Man…"

"Don't worry about it. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Nothing good ever came from saying that." Adam smirked.

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. "Hm…Maybe I can see some of your pictures some time?"

Adam went pale for a moment as he looked up. "Um…I-I don't think so, man, they're not really…well they're not…They're nothing to look at."

"You don't have anything that's not work related?"

"I don't know. Sure, somewhere." He reached up to touch the back of his head again, obviously still feeling the effects of his injury.

"I'm no good with cameras. Always manage to cut off someone's head." Lawrence admitted.

"Yeah, well, I'm no good with a scalpel. Hell, I'd probably be making the same mistake." He joked, and Lawrence laughed.

"So as long as we never switch trades."

"Right." Adam rubbed his temples momentarily before taking another drink.

"You okay?" Lawrence prodded again.

This time, the pain-distracted Adam didn't bite. "Just a bitch of a headache…should've taken some aspirin or something…" he said quietly.

Lawrence observed him in pity for a short while before sighing. "You really don't look so hot. I think I should take you home."

"Aw, come on, Mom…" he groaned tiredly.

"I'm serious, Adam, you need to rest or something. You know I'm right. But that's not the point, the important thing is that I know I'm right." He turned just as the waitress passed by him. "Excuse me, miss? Could we get a check here?"

Adam reached down into his pocket and found his wallet with fumbling hands, tossing a few bucks out onto the counter. "Yeah, you should get back home yourself." He agreed.

Lawrence put his own money onto the table as the waitress made a speedy return, standing up. "Well this was…"

"Pointless?" Adam finished, numbly pushing himself to his feet as well.

"Hey, we had some…good times." Lawrence struggled with his crutch for a moment. "We'll do it again some time. When you're better."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"I'm a doctor, Adam. You'd have a better chance convincing me you were Barbara Streisand than you do making me believe that."

"Ha ha ha. Funny. He's a funny guy…"

The car ride back was relatively silent. Adam was clearly exhausted and unwell, despite the fact that he refused to admit to it. Lawrence could figure why, so he left it alone. Adam was a loner, as he'd said. He wasn't used to sharing what he felt, and he certainly didn't need someone to fuss over him. Or at least he thought he didn't. Lawrence couldn't help but worry about the state he was in. He'd become oddly close to the young man considering the short time they'd spent together, but he supposed the most fast made relationships were born from adversity. At least he was sure he heard that somewhere. Either way, there was an undeniable bond between them, even with so many blatant differences.

He slowly lost himself in the thought of friendship for a while, mulling over the friends that he'd had before this ordeal. Given, for at least the past year or so he hadn't so much as gone out of the house aside from the hospital and the occasional grocery store, but he did vaguely remember when he did have other friends. Not that they were the greatest of people. Mostly colleagues, interns, other doctors and such. They were all rich in both finance and reputation, covertly maintaining their pious nature while disguising it with some bleak upstanding moral idealogy that they probably didn't really believe in themselves. They were made up of words and not much else. He might've been harder on them if he himself hadn't been leaning in the same direction. Even if he never meant to look down on anyone, and even if he never meant to become so indifferent to the people he claimed to love. Somehow, it happened. He looked over for a second to the passenger's seat with a satisfied nod to himself. Adam was better than all of that.

As they pulled up to the street again, Adam jolted slightly, almost as though he'd been nodding off. "Thanks man." He uttered in a sleep-heavy voice, unfastening his seat belt.

"Can I come up?" Lawrence heard himself ask. Why? He asked himself. To make sure he's…okay. He answered back. Pussy. He retorted.

Adam paused in his move to get out of the car, looking back questioningly at his companion. "Um, sure. Come on up." He shrugged.

Adam walked curiously by Lawrence's side as he limped on his one crutch, continuiously looking as though he wanted to say something. As they at last got to the door of the building, he chose to speak. "Pretty good on one crutch…Still um…does it, you know, still hurt?"

Lawrence thought about how to answer that. A sarcastic quip was naturally his first response, but he knew that Adam was being sincere. "Get's better every day."

"…Good." Adam let out a sigh and opened the door for him.

Upstairs was much quieter than Lawrence remembered it. Everything had settled now; no radios, no voices, nothing. It was either peaceful or eerie—he was having trouble deciding between the two. "How long have you lived here?" he asked conversationally.

For a moment he thought that Adam didn't hear him, but then he was sure he caught a "Too long…" as he fit his key into the lock of his door.

Lawrence stepped in and looked around as Adam walked over to throw his jacket somewhere. The place was covered in pictures alright. Stacks and clusters of papers sat teetering on the edge of toppling on tables and chairs, books and magazines lay on the floor in some places. It looked as though Adam had tried to organize them somehow, but there was surely very little method in it. There certainly wasn't anywhere to sit, so he merely stood there, leaning casually on his crutch. "Nice place."

"It's a mess." Adam said.

"Or it's a mess." Lawrence shrugged, looking down on a desk at a collection of photos. Most of them were of some brunette woman, in various places and situations but with the obvious look of a person who had no idea they were being watched. Nothing in them seemed out of the ordinary. She was sitting in cafes and restaraunts, talking with other people, walking alone. Just simple things, all that looked relatively innocent. He sifted through them for a moment before picking one up by the edge. He didn't see Adam's expression drop when he did so. She was sitting on a park bench with a cup of coffee and a leash in her hand attatched to a lounging yellow lab. Lawrence suddenly looked up as Adam appeared in front of him, picking up another one of the photos.

"…Jessica Fay. Thirty-nine, business executive, has two kids, loves dogs and drinks her coffee black. Proof positive that this is a scumbag business." He rubbed his head yet again, narrowing his eyes as if he couldn't see the picture clearly. "Her husband hired me to track for a while her when he thought she was having an affair."

Lawrence nodded, gazing down at the picture Adam held. Jessica Fay, walking her dog.

"Only he wasn't her husband." Adam spared a glance up at him before tossing the photograph down and turning slightly to look over at a window. "I followed her around for a month and I found jack shit worth reporting her for. That's when I found out that the son of a bitch that hired me was just a stalker. And I was doing his fucking dirty work. Nice story, huh? That's the kind of 'favors' I did for people."

Lawrence slowly put the picture down and paused. "…There're just sick people out there, Adam, you can't help that."

"Yeah, especially when you're one of 'em." He thumped a hand to his chest and shook his head, gathering the photos back into a pile. "You don't get it. I was still taking pictures for the guy a week after I found out."

"…Well…" Lawrence swallowed, seeing the agitated but remorseful look on his face. "Point being you stopped."

"Sure. After I got paid." Adam stood tapping his fingers against the stack of pictures for a second before picking them up and dumping them into the waste basket. It left an oddly out-of-place naked area on the otherwise cluttered desk.

He wasn't sure what to say. Adam was right, it was a terrible job. With what could he possibly hope to console him? He was beginning to have a vague inkling as to what kind of nuisance was keeping Adam awake at night. Maybe he was punishing himself. "We all do things we're not so proud of…"

Adam looked over at him and offered another nod, touching at his shoulder again to feel for his scar. "Every day?"

Lawrence took a step closer to him. "Sometimes."

"Aren't you at least supposed to do something you're proud of? I mean Jesus, by this point in my life, I…" he crossed his arms in front of him, still rubbing his shoulder.

"What are you talking about? You're living on your own, aren't you? Making your way, supporting yourself? And…well…you should also be proud of the fact that…you lived." Lawrence looked down for a moment as Adam tensed. "You got out."

He didn't say anything for a long while, probably unwilling to have jumped back into that conversation. "Because of you." Was his answer, dull and quiet under his exasperated tone.

"No, because you're smart. We both were. Rose to the occasion, remember?" he rested a hand on Adam's shoulder, at which he winced, despite the fact that it was not his recovering arm.

"Don't say that." Adam brought his eyes to look directly at him. "Don't give me credit for that, that's bullshit, you saved my ass. You have any idea what you risked to do it? Well here it is, you didn't risk it for much. Man, how can you say that? I was nothing, and-and you had this choice, and y-you could've made it so much easier and fucking shot me to begin with, but you didn't! I wouldn't of done the same for a God damn stranger, man, it's not right, it's not fucking-"

"I had to, there was a chance to save us both."

"You didn't know that."

"But there was another way."

"You didn't know that!" Adam cried out, nearly to the brink of tears.

"There's always another way!" Lawrence persisted. "Don't start telling me you wished you would've died in there, Adam, because I know it's a lie. You wanted to live—and you still do."

"Of course I wanna live! It's my right, isn't it?" his breath was coming shorter, and Lawrence nodded with reassuring fervor. "I just don't deserve it! For fuck's sake, I know that, I know that I-I—"

"Adam, Adam stop, it's fine—" Lawrence lowered his voice quickly and moved the hand from Adam's shoulder to his face, trying to hold his attention and calm him down.

"But it should've been my problem—it shouldn't've been yours..."

"…Come on…" Lawrence tried to protest.

"I should've—"

"Don't." Lawrence cut him off gruffly with a bit of a pleading edge. He didn't know what did it, but it was all at once that he was placing a chaste kiss on Adam's lips. The room fell into a dead silence.

Lawrence paused for a moment…then came forward again, following it with something a little lengthier.

It shocked him the hunger with which Adam responded. There was no horror, no refusal, just a sudden spring of passion in some form. Having initiated it, Lawrence easily dominated the kiss, pressing his tongue deep down into Adam's mouth without resistance and pulling him a little closer with the one hand he had not supporting himself on his crutch. His taste was an odd mix of alcohol, pancakes, tabacco and…peanut butter? Either way, it was no deterent from going back for longer, harder kisses that neither of them seemed to care enough to question. It didn't make sense, but at this point, nothing else did.

After a few more moments, Lawrence pulled off in a sort of daze, his hand still sitting on Adam's now-flushed face.

"I…uh…" Adam began, floundering in surprise as his mouth hung slightly open. "Whoah…"

"Yeah…" Lawrence gaped and contemplated the numb tingling in his tongue. He slowly drew his hand away and eyed him up and down. "…Can I come by tomorrow? I have somewhere…somewhere to be until, um…four. It was four. But after that, I-I—"

"Sure…" Adam managed. "…uh-yeah. Come on…over…"

"…Right, er…yeah. Okay. I've…gotta go." Despite himself, he stayed there for a second longer, leaving another breif touch on Adam's shoulder. "…Get some rest. …Alright?"

"I'll um… try…" Adam watched with wide eyes as Lawrence turned and left.