Tuesday
"He's in the shower now, yeah?" Monte asks, his hands shoved into his pockets. Adam looks up from where he's sitting on the floor in the hallway, right beside the bathroom door. He sighs softly, and nods once as Monte plops down across from him. The older guitarist has his fingers knotted together on his knees, his expression is just as worried as Adam's.
"How's the wrist?" Adam looks down at the gauze around his right wrist. He shrugs, leaning his head against the wall. To be honest, it stings like a bitch. Every time he moves it, he kind of wants to whimper a little and fight tears. But he's gonna be alright. He's gonna live. He just hopes that Tommy is going to be okay. His baby's been through so much. He's amazed that the blond hasn't… Hasn't turned to… Something like drugs or suicide— he shivers. He shivers at the idea of his baby taking his own life.
They sit in silence for a long moment, neither of them sure of what to say or do right now. There's not much to really think about. Adam's knees are drawn tight to his chest and he sighs heavily. His head is spinning with everything. True, he may have had a bit of a rough time getting along with his dad, but he was fortunate. He's never been in a situation where his father has hit him. Yeah, okay, Eber's yelled at him. A lot. But he's never laid a hand on Adam.
He wishes that Tommy didn't have to suffer that. He has no idea the trauma his baby must've gone through, but he still wishes to God that he didn't have to… His hands tremble a little and he puts his face into them. His shoulders shake and he has to bite on his bottom lip to keep from just breaking down into sobs right now. He should have known sooner. He should have… Adam doesn't even know anymore. What he does know is that Tommy's parents are dead and he's also got a concussion.
Fucking perfect.
"What's eating you, Adam?" Monte asks, his voice soft and concerned, the emotion reflecting in his eyes. Adam looks over at the guitarist for a moment, before looking away again. It should be obvious, but then again, Adam hasn't always been the easiest person to read. In cases like this, anyway, he's shut up and locked tight.
"Nothing…" He says, staring down at his hands, his fingers, his nails. He's not sure exactly what he's staring. Maybe's he's just trying to avoid contact. Why? Fuck, his head hurts. Too much has happened and he's… He's not sure how much of this he can take. He cares deeply about Tommy— more than anyone else he's ever met (apart from his parents, but that's for a different reason)— but…
"That's a downright lie, Adam. I know you better than that." Monte's voice is a little on the harsh side, but Adam doesn't take any offense to it. Monte's just… Looking out for him. Adam knows that Monte doesn't mean anything by it. The guitarist just wants to make sure he's gonna be okay. That he's not gonna do anything… reckless…
"I'm fine, I promise." Adam insists, but his heart is pounding in his throat, and he sighs, listening to the muted sounds of the shower water hitting the tub and a body. He closes his eyes, imagining… Imagining standing up, opening the bathroom door and slipping inside. The steam washing around him as he strips of his clothes and gently eases the shower curtain aside. Pale, washed skin splattered with purple and blue, but that's not what he sees. He sees dripping blond hair and a beautiful boy, and he wraps his arms around the frail waist, pulling the startled blond against him…
"Adam?" Monte's voice cuts into his thoughts, and he looks up, feeling heat rushing over his cheeks. He drops his head again, biting gently down on his bottom lip. He's… he's never had thoughts like that before. Sure, he and Tommy have cuddled and kissed something fierce, but it's never advanced beyond that really. The occasional bite and touch, but, hell…
Monte shakes his head and pulls himself to his feet. "Space cadet." He walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen. Adam watches him go, but he, himself, doesn't move. He stays, on his ass, by the bathroom door. It's becoming more and more tempting to get up and slip inside. But something's holding him back. He's not sure if Tommy's ready for something like that. After all, he did just find out his mother's dead.
God, his baby… His baby's been through so much, and he's just been standing there on the sidelines, letting it all happen. He should have listened… If he'd just listened… He would have done something sooner. If he'd just been a little more aware, then maybe, maybe they wouldn't be in this situation right now. He doesn't like it, really, but… He's blaming himself. He's blaming himself for the things that have happened even though he knows it's not his fault. He wasn't the one abusing Tommy. He wasn't the one abusing Tommy's mother. He… He still should have done something!
'Stop it, Adam. Stop blaming yourself. There's nothing you could have done. You've done all you can. Tommy's safe now. He's not going to hurt anymore.' He tells himself, but somehow it's not quite enough. His heart is pounding a little harder and he's starting to shake. He bites down on his bottom lip, crossing his arms on his knees and burying his face into them. His shoulders tremble as light sobs fall off his lips. He can't stop blaming himself and he doesn't know why. He should have…
Thu-dunk!
Adam's head snaps up, the tears half way down his cheeks. No. He turns his head, towards the door as Monte comes rushing from the kitchen, stepping into the hallway. But Adam's already on his feet and shoving the door open. The steam is thick and he stumbles to the shower curtain. There's a gap between the edge and the wall, and he can see blond locks and pale skin on the bottom of the tub. No, no, no. He rips the curtain aside.
He doesn't even see Tommy's naked body. He just sees Tommy. Eyes closed. He doesn't even look like he's breathing. Adam whimpers, reaching in and clumsily pulling his lover out from the spray of the shoulder. Yeah, he gets quite wet in the process, but he doesn't care. He reaches up and snatches a towel, wrapping it around Tommy's frame as he cradles the blond in his arms, trying to shake him awake. He has to wake up. He has to.
"Tommy. Tommy, baby, wake up. C'mon, Tommy, please…" He mutters, before turning his head towards Monte. The guitarist is standing in the doorway, eyes wide and speechless. "Call nine-one-one!" Adam screams at him, before returning his focus to his baby. God, Tommy…
"…just collapsed in the shower, he needs an ambulance…" he can hear Monte talking in the hallway. His heart is thrashing in his chest. Heart…
He leans down, pressing his ear into Tommy's chest. He's breathing hard and praying, praying, praying despite the fact he's so not a religious person that his baby's got a— yes! Yes, it's there. It's… It's there, he can hear it, he can feel it. But it feels weak. He cries out, pressing kisses into Tommy's hair and into his lips, breathing down his throat. He needs Tommy to wake up. He… Tommy—
"Tommy… Tommy, please!"
"…no, he needs it now, ma'am. Yes, I know it's going to be a few minutes, but he doesn't have a few minutes…" shit, shit, shit!
Tears stream down his face more freely now that he's more present. Tommy… Tommy's unconscious. Tommy has a concussion. Tommy's family is dead. Tommy's probably god permanent damage in certain areas of his body. The police are coming to take Tommy away. Tommy's unconscious; is he going to wake up? Will he ever…
"Tommy, baby. Tommy, please…" He begs. He fucking begs. And still nothing.
It seems like forever. He doesn't hear Monte get off the phone. He barely bears the door opening and people talking. Asking questions and telling him what to do. He's barely aware and he refuses to let go of Tommy, so he gets to go with them down the stairs and into the ambulance. There's people looking through windows, peering at them and all Adam can do is mumble into Tommy's ear as they strap him into oxygen and an IV.
"Please, baby… Please, wake up. I need you. I love you, Tommy. Wake up…"