A/N: Ah, yes, another half-asleep-chapter… It's just this short little relationship-between-characters-develop-piece, but as I've said, things will heat up!

4: Playing In Love

Adam doesn't know what's happening to him.

Usually, he wouldn't even fight the urge to call. He wouldn't have to, because he wouldn't feel anything. He wouldn't feel any regret for Lawrence, no fear of darkness, and especially not an immediate wish to call a fucking cop he's met twice in his life.

Maybe Jigsaw was right.

How's that?

Maybe you appreciate your life more now days.

No. I don't. In case you haven't noticed, I'm fucking feeling like shit. And all I think about is you.

Yeah. But at least you think. And you feel.

I feel like shit. I haven't left the apartment in a week, so I feel a little headache, and a damn strong craving for a cigarette. That's what I'm feeling.

Yeah. But you feel. You miss me, and you're scared. That's more than you used to feel.

This is Adam's new game. His new little way of escaping reality when he's out of cigarettes.

He's playing that Lawrence is alive. Or no, maybe not that he's alive, but more that he's alive in him. That his warmth is in the cold, gaping hole in Adam's chest, heats him up from the inside like a little flame.

And the voice in his head has been replaced with another one. A kinder one.

A voice that loves him.

Call him.

I don't want to.

You're afraid that he's going to hurt you.

It's a statement, not a question. Adam puts his hand in his pocket to check if he's out of cigarettes, and looks at his reflection in the switched-off TV.

Shut up. You don't know me.

Then who does?

I know me. I'm the only company I've had since I left home, you see.

Exactly. You could use some renewing.

Mm. Sorry to disappoint you, but my only experience of renewing is that either the renewing or me gets clingy. And that's never a good thing.

Call him, Adam.

Adam sighs.

He knows he wants to call Jake. It's not like Lawrence tries to convince him of something he doesn't want to do.

He wants to call Jake. Fuck, he's even started caring about the man.

And in the same time, he hasn't felt a bigger repulse against anything in his life.

But after a while, he still gets up and walks up to the phone. He's a little ashamed over how obvious it is that he's let all his ideals down when he sees that Jake's card is still laying next to the phone.

You didn't even have the balls to throw it out, you pussy.

It's not Lawrence's voice that's talking now.

Adam may feel and think since he got out of the bathroom. But his suppressed, subconscious masochism is still there.

Hell, the fact that he's in love with a dead man is a sure proof of that, isn't it?

Adam looks at the card. The white color shines from the dark wood in the table, and he slowly dials the numbers on it.

Fuck you for talking me into doing shit like this, Lawrence.

It's not my fault I'm irresistible.

Adam chuckles.

You arrogant asshole.

The fact that Lawrence isn't there, that he'll never be there again, doesn't make him less lovable.

"Hello?"

Adam inhales deeply.

"Hey."

"Adam?"

Adam makes a hollow laugh.

"Fuck, am I that predictable?"

Jake laughs, too, although with a slight confused undertone.

"No, you don't have to worry. How are you feeling?"

Adam holds back his answer and fidgets with the card.

"Okay. Still a little… You know…"

Sissy.

Not even Lawrence's voice disagrees with him.

"What?" Jake says coaxingly.

Adam sighs heavily and hangs his head, gives up, just as annoyed over his pride as he is over his weakness.

They're equally bothering now days. Before the bathroom, at least he got to take certain pride in the fact that he didn't accept help, didn't talk to anyone even though he felt himself slowly bleeding to death on the inside. But now, it's coming down, bit by bit, which makes him feel just as stupid while he talks to Jake, or even Lawrence, as he does when he stays silent.

Because he knows he won't be able to stay that way forever.

He knows he won't even be able to do it for a long time at all.

But like he always does when things get too hard for him to handle, he pretends not to notice it.

"No, I'm fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to… Come over. Now that I'm somewhat normal."

Jake doesn't answer right away. And for some reason, Adam can almost imagine his face, the face that he's still only seen in daylight once, with a slightly gaping mouth, not blinking, his strong, secure hand laying next to the phone. But after a while, he still answers, after clearing his throat.

"Yeah, sure. Definitely."

"Great," Adam says, and thinks with a small smile that this probably is the first phone call ever when he's the most talky one. "Are you free now?"

"Yeah," Jake says, and seems to be normal again. "Can I come over?"

"That kind of was my question."

Jake laughs.

"Okay. See you soon."

"Bye."

Adam hangs up.

And in his head, he silently curses himself for his own stupidity.

Because on some level, the part of him that's still way too proud knows that he's just done something he's going to regret.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Hi," Jake says when Adam opens the door.

"Hey," Adam says insecurely, raises his hand and closes the door behind him. "Um… How's it going?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Jake says and nods along with himself. "And… You're sure you're okay, too?"

Adam rolls his eyes theatrically and walks past Jake to sit down on the couch.

"You know one of the reasons I have my own place is because I don't want to see my mom, right?" He says, with no effort at all to hide his venomous tone.

Jake smiles uncertainly and sits down next to him.

"Sorry. It's just that… The last time I saw you…"

"The last time you saw me, I was a fucking nervous wreck," Adam cuts him off, almost desperately. "I'd just had a nightmare and I… You don't think I usually call people I barely know in the middle of the night and bawl like a damn teenage girl, do you?"

Jake shakes his head abruptly.

"No. No, I don't."

There's a pause. Adam isn't sure what to say. The truth is that he doesn't really dare to say anything else.

Partly because he's afraid he'll snap again.

Partly… Well, because of that. He's afraid of the side effects. He's afraid that Jake will get sick of him and his sarcasms, his half-hearted attempts to keep him away even though he doesn't really have the energy to do that anymore, that Jake will get up and go home, that another person will walk out of his life, and he'll be left alone, defenseless, exposed.

Bleeding.

Either way, he doesn't have to worry this much. Jake is the next one to talk.

"These nightmares…" He says fumblingly, like he's asking something that isn't really his business.

Adam sends him a look from the corner of his eyes to show that he's listening.

"You have them a lot?" Jake finishes off.

Adam looks away again.

"I'm sorry," Jake apologizes, and puts a hesitating hand on Adam's arm, a hand that almost seems subconscious but still defrosts, still comforts, still touches that black, dull, damp place where Adam's heart used to be, a hand that pains and that Adam still doesn't have the guts to shrug off, even though those annoying fucking tears rise in his eyes. "I was just thinking… I thought it'd do you good to talk to someone, and I'm here, I know how you feel… Fuck, I'm sorry… I'm an idiot…"

"Every night," Adam chokes out.

He doesn't even realize that he's saying it. But it's out there now, simply because Jake knows, he's the only one that knows, he's the only one that even has a remote idea of what Adam goes through, and Adam can't say no to him.

Adam stares firmly into the TV. His eyes are harsh, he refuses to look at Jake, he struggles to hold his trembling face together and not cringe like a baby, even though he knows it's too late, it's way too late, because the tears well up, hot and searing, roll down his cheeks and into that hole in his chest, where it burns even more, a globe starts to roll and Adam clenches his teeth because he won't sob, he won't!

But the thing is that the last person who touched him before Jake…

…Was Lawrence.

And when Adam angrily draws his hand over his cheeks without being able to stop the tears, he realizes that the reason to why he, no matter how much he hates himself for it, cares about Jake, is that he sees Lawrence's face every time he looks at him, that Jake suddenly is here to remind him of his betrayal and reward him for it, torture him and love him, wonderfully burning, hurting, clawing bittersweet.

Jake puts his arm around Adam's shoulders and hugs him unsurely. And Adam accepts it.

It's been hurting for a pretty long time now. He can deal with that.

The fact that it's wonderful is just an extra benefit.

"Adam…" Jake says in a low voice. "You want me to… Sleep here tonight?"

Adam laughs, the sound comes up his throat and mingles with the involuntarily sobs.

"Are we playing that we're teenage girls?" He mutters and draws his finger under his eyes. "On a sleepover?"

Jake laughs and strokes Adam's shoulder with his thumb.

"Eat raw cookie dough and talk about guys," he says quietly, and Adam laughs again.

And even though it feels like he's betraying Lawrence in some way, it seems like at least the owner to one of the voices in his head smiles.

See? We already have some more human touch! Eventually, they won't be able to keep themselves from having mad, passionate sex, right? Anyway, please review!