Rebirth – Chapter 33: The Client
IMPORTANT: This fic is not being removed—it's just jumping over to the brand new shiney SAW section! Whohoo! The next update, this fic will no longer be under misc, in case anyone would be confused. That being said, I love the hell out of you all.
Previously Adam had been unaware of where he was in his state of unconsciousness. He had been set in the state closest to bliss that anyone knows—in which one is simply sleeping without concern for a world that, in this state, one cannot comphrehend. Just a comforting, dark warmth that promised to cradle him until morning, but had not been able to live up to its word. Adam jerked up with a hand wobbly bracing himself, a loud pounding resonating through his ears as though someone was tapping directly on his head. "W-wha th'fuck's…?" he slurred in confusion as one of his feet found the floor. Beside him, Lawrence was stirring, disturbed from his rest when Adam moved so quickly from his arms.
Stumbling up, Adam put a hand to his buzzing head and grumbled, listening intently to realize that the pounding was coming from his door…Fumbling around, he found a pair of boxers and clumsily pulled them on. They slipped off a little as he went forward, and he nearly tripped pulling them back up. He caught the clock reading three-thirty one, but through his tiredness, he didn't even consider this visitor's avidness to be an oddity. It was only once he got to the door that he began to wonder just who the hell was pounding on it. His hand stopped at the handle and he paused, brow furrowing. Just who was coming up to his apartment at three in the damn morning? He certainly hoped it was someone with the wrong room number.
"Open the fuckin' door, Adam!" came a deep growl from the other side. Shit. So much for that theory. Adam fidgeted with the chain determinedly and swung the door open, squinting in discomfort from the light that poured in on him.
Before him was a figure that stood a fair bit taller than himself, dark hair and a somewhat broad build that he was obviously trying to use in his favor the way he leered over Adam. There was a cut on his forehead and blood on his shirt, like maybe he'd taken a fall or something. Adam could only stare in wonder at the man, eyes still unfocused and body still numb from where it protested use in such an early hour. After a few brief moments of staring, he blinked hard, eyes meeting the other's in recognition. "…Eric?" he croaked, voice husky from hours of dormancy.
"Well look who's home." Snapped Eric, leaning a little into the door frame and making Adam straighten up. "Look who's fucking home after all, after all the fucking times I called!"
"Jesus, man, this really couldn't wait until morning?" Adam rubbed his face vigorously.
"It is morning when you haven't slept in two days." He snorted, baring his teeth at Adam. At that point, he could smell the heavy thickness of alcohol. "Where the hell were you last week you dick? Huh?"
Adam narrowed his eyes. "…I had some things to take care of. My own business, okay? I'm sorry."
"Sorry. Yeah!" Eric laughed outright, but it was angry. "I'll bet you're sorry!"
"W-well what is it?" Adam stammered, still confused. "God, what's so urgent?"
Eric wiped a hand gruffly over his mouth and grunted. " 'Just call me tomorrow, man!' that's what you said you lying little prick! 'Sure man, just call me tomorrow and I'll track her! Even give you a cheap rate!' Yeah, you're sorry. Fuck you, fuck your sorry ass!"
"Dude—what is your issue?" Adam responded irritably. "Something came up. It was an emergency, I…couldn't get out of it. Would you cool it, I mean hell!"
"What was so damn important? Funny how you look abso-fucking-lutely fine to me!" Eric demanded.
Adam adjusted his stance and shook his head. The bastard. Eric couldn't see the scar on his ankle, or his shoulder. He didn't know about the nightmares. "Like I said, it was my own business. Why are you here? Couldn't you have just hired someone else?"
"I might've you son of a bitch." Eric sneered back. "You wanna know what happened? Huh? Huh? S'that it?" he jabbed Adam in the chest with a finger.
"You're pounding on my damn door at the ass crack before dawn—yeah, it might be nice to know what the fuck is going on."
"I was right, you know." Eric wavered on a foot before finding his balance properly and leaning heavily to one side on the door frame. "Alex was fucking sleeping around on me! I caught the bitch red-handed. I walk in and she's royally servicing this-" he held up a wild gesture with his hand. " 'Enrico' fucker—yeah, guess what? Not even the original guy I thought that she was sleeping around with!…that bitch. That bitch! I give her two months of 'marriage' and she's already cramming the closest cock to her?" Suddenly Eric was raging to himself, beating a hand against the wall absently with each frenzied snarl. "She lives in my house, she spends my money, and before I can turn around she's got her lips wrapped around some goddamn Latino twink's balls? Bullshit!"
Adam shook his head. "That sucks, man…But—"
"All this time she was playing me like a jackass. I should've thrown the stupid whore out when I first s'pected she was fuckin' 'round…" his dark eyes bore hatefully into Adam like lances. "But you woulda fuckin' known that if you woulda held up to your word, you asshole! If you would've done the job!"
Adam didn't understand how such a high level of trust had been put in him for this task. It wasn't as though he swore his life to it, he had only said to call and they could talk about it. And Eric had only known him for roughly a night, not enough to form such a brotherly bond that he would actually feel betrayed simply because Adam hadn't returned his phone calls. Clearly Eric was unbalanced. Even in sobriety he came off as a violent person, and in his current state, Adam was beginning to feel threatened. "You're drunk, shithead, go home." He spat daringly.
"Yeah?" Eric leaned in closer, glaring at Adam furiously. "Drunk enough to do what, huh? How drunk do you think I am? Drunk enough to go a little nuts? Huh? To pound the living shit out of some little asswipe who stabbed me in the back?"
"What's going on?" Adam stiffened and glanced quickly over as Lawrence approached them from behind, haphazardly dressed in boxers and a T-shirt as he entered the scene bewildered. He looked from Eric to Adam curiously.
Eric was frozen in what looked to be shock as he stared blankly at Lawrence for a moment, mouth opening slightly and eyebrows knitting and relaxing systematically. After a sufficient absorbing, he scoffed and curled a lip, heatedly meeting Lawrence's eyes with a challenging mutter. "What the fuck is this?" his eyes flashed to Adam. "Another client, or your boyfriend?" he chuckled in disgust, and Adam tensed with anger.
Lawrence gaped at Eric in confusion, quickly becoming defensive. "And who are you?"
"None of your goddamn business." Eric answered, but an ugly smirk crossed his face where he stood, looking at Adam again. "So you're a fag, huh? So this is what was so fucking important you couldn't pick up the phone? Because you were getting' your queer ass plowed? Classic!" he laughed drunkenly, but it was easy to see he was reaching a boiling point. "I couldn't've guessed better myself."
"So why don't you fuck off, huh?" Adam returned woundedly. "Your wife was screwing around—congratulations. Most people end up waiting months and paying loads to find that out, you got yours for free. Consider yourself lucky."
Eric's hand clawed at the frame irately. "What did you say?"
"Fuck off." Adam repeated.
"No one tells me to fuck off!" he clenched his fists and loomed over, but with Lawrence standing there, he stopped himself at a certain distance. "Especially not some lying little fruit-queer…fag!"
"Well unless you want a 'fag' to beat your head into the wall, you'll piss off like he says." Lawrence said darkly with the underlyings of a growl.
Adam was sure he saw Eric gawk for just a second and hesitate as though he was going to step off, but for the most part, he held his ground. His face was red and he was seething, and there was tense air for the moment where he was unsure what he would do. In a sudden move, however, Eric fell back a few feet, cursing loudly and throwing a hand out at them. "Fuck you! Fucking backstabbing prick!" with that, he spun off, dragging himself back down the hall from which he came.
Lawrence backed away as Adam stepped back, nearly slamming the door as he stood rubbing his temples and flipping on the light. "Lousy fucker…" he said through clenched teeth.
"Who the hell was that?" Lawrence asked, still taken back.
Adam struggled for words, heaving a deep sigh and holding a hand to his forehead. "Remember before? In the hospital? When I…said that job op fell through? Well…that was him." He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I met him the night before…before it. He called me while I was uh…while I was gone. Wanted me to take pictures of his wife. Just a usual gig."
"And you didn't do it?" Lawrence prodded further.
"No." Adam shook his head.
"Why not?"
"Do you remember where the fuck I was that night?" he growled back. "You were there too, you know!"
Lawrence paused, staring at Adam with regret. "I…I'm sorry, Adam, I didn't—I wasn't thinking."
"Well I—" he started, but realized his tone was so much angrier than he meant it. He started again calmer. "I-I didn't mean to say it like…that…damn it…" he bowed his head down and shivered, rubbing an arm that shared his trembles.
"I was just worried, is all." Lawrence murmured, scratching the back of his neck.
"You were worried?" Adam held up his hands in frustration. "Breaking down my door at three a.m…do you have any fucking clue who I thought that could've been? L-Look, man, does your wife e-even know you're here tonight?" Adam was aware he was starting to ramble now, but his nerves were already on edge.
Lawrence straightened up. "What? You mean…you thought that might've been her?" he paused, then shook his head. "Yeah, she knows I'm here. I'm not that coniving. At least…well…at least I don't think…Er, Adam, why would you think that, anyway?"
There was a stoney silence between them, Adam suddenly speechless. He didn't know what to say. The only thing he could do was tell him the truth, but…oh god, this just had to be brought up eventually…didn't it? He looked down and closed his eyes, sighing. "Allison called me yesterday."
Adam already anticipated the long, dead stillness, Lawrence numbed with confusion as the words sank in. He shifted momentarily between horror and confusion before grasping for a response. "…Oh…Adam, I…" he shook his head and bit down on his lip. "I didn't know…I never would've thought she…When…? I-I mean why?"
Adam felt a sick sensation in his stomach and stilled his shudders as he gripped an arm nervously. With a bitter, miserable smirk, he muttered his reply. "…She asked me if you were having an affair."
Lawrence suddenly was sharing Adam's ill feeling, gaping at him incredulously. There was an unexpected spark of anger in him as he saw the look on Adam's face. How could she have done this? How could she have called him, didn't she think that would be crossing the line? She didn't even know him. But he forced the anger back, disgusted with himself for having the nerve to be upset with her that way. And a wave of guilt struggled over him. This was his fault. All of it. He couldn't possibly blame her. "What did you say…?" he helplessly questioned.
"I said…I said that there wasn't another woman. I mean, that's what she thought…she dropped it there." He relayed, eyes fixed to the floor as though he regretted having admitted this.
Lawrence felt a deep sense of shame at that moment, and his inner conflict made him shift awkwardly between self-hatred and a personal wailing angst. He looked to Adam apprehensively to see that he appeared no better off. "Adam, I'm sorry, I never—" he went forward to touch him, but was dismayed when he jerked away from the hand.
Adam didn't look up as he did so, biting his tongue as Allison's words tumbled through his head. This was just…wrong, wasn't it? It was so wrong. She still didn't know, and they were still having an affair. How in the hell had he ended up this way? Breaking up marriages? Ruining lives? …It's what you've always been doing, isn't it Adam? Except this time…this time, instead of taking a picture, you're putting a personal hand in it, aren't you? "It's fucked up…" he uttered, a mix of his confused emotions and his desperation to break the current tension.
"Yeah. I know." Lawrence agreed. "Adam…I don't know what you must think of me right now…"
"What do you mean?" he asked lightly. But he knew what he meant.
"I look like a…jerk." Lawrence looked down at his hand and sighed. With one humorless chuckle that was almost a groan, he corrected himself. "…I am a jerk."
Adam looked up, unhappy to see Lawrence's despair where he stood with an expression of dreary ponder. "…No, hey, Lawr, you're not…" he protested feebly.
Lawrence said nothing, and Adam watched him uncomfortably. They suddenly felt so distant. Lawrence was in his own head now, contemplating his own life, the one that Adam wasn't in. He hated it. Part of him was jealous, resentful that Lawrence had a separate life from this, one wherein he mattered and was needed. All Adam had…was Lawrence. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. "It's…almost four." He heard himself say, eyes on Lawrence's figure. "Let's just go back to bed…huh?"
Lawrence brought his eyes back to Adam with a somewhat forced smile. "Uhr…Sure. Okay."
Adam wanted desperately to embrace him as he turned away, but something at this point was cruelly holding him back. With one last pained sigh, he flipped off the light and followed him back to bed.
