Thursday
It's two weeks later. The doctors tell him that he's well enough to leave. They're just concerned because he doesn't talk much anymore and he just stares out of his window. But Monte assures them that he's fine. That he's going to be okay. He just needs some time to readjust to being out and amongst people again. They grudgingly let him go, but they repeat words that mean the same thing, no matter how it's paraphrased. They tell him if he gets dizzy or suffers repetitive headaches, he must come back. Otherwise, take it easy and good luck.
Good luck. You've gotta be fucking kidding.
He follows Monte out of the hospital; it's the first time he's left the building. The air kisses his skin and he feels cold, but he doesn't shiver. The wind brushes his hair (God, it's so long now) around his face. He bites down on his bottom lip as he follows the older male to the car. Monte unlocks the car and he slips into the passenger seat. He thinks of all the times Adam has sat in this seat, and he wants to cry. But he doesn't. He shoves that thought to the back of his mind as he buckles in; Monte stars the car, the engine purring. His hands are on the wheel for a moment before he looks at Tommy.
"Where do you want to go?" He asks. Tommy blinks once, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say at this point. Sure, the question that Monte asks is direct and about as subtle as one can get, but where does he want to go? Washington. He wants to find Adam. The apartment. He wants to get his stuff. His house. He wants to remember that his mom used to be alive. But maybe his house isn't the best. He doesn't want to remember Richard after all of this.
Monte waits for an answer that Tommy doesn't supply, and he sighs heavily before putting the car into reverse and pulling out of the parking spot. He drives out of the lot and down the street. It's busy with three o'clock lunch rushes back to work, but Tommy doesn't pay any mind to the world outside the window pane of the car door. Monte plays music that he doesn't hear because his mind is wandering off and he's trying to figure out how much money it would take to get to Washington…
"Tommy," Monte says, and he turns his head automatically, thoughts about Washington on pause as if it were a movie. "Do you wanna go back to the apartment?" Tommy blinks, and nods once, looking away again. He stares blankly out of the window of the car. If he can get enough money to travel up and support himself a little, he might be able to ask around during the day about Adam and then at night he can try and crash in a bar loft or something. Maybe there'll be shelters he can stay at, cause he knows for damn certain he has no family up in Washington.
But what if he can't find Adam? What if the angel as changed his name? Changed his appearance? What if Adam really isn't even in Washington? What if he's right under Tommy's nose and he just doesn't know it? The idea springs tears in the ducts of his eyes, but he blinks them away because he doesn't want to cry right now. He can't. But… He still thinks about that notion. What if Adam isn't there? What if he never sees the ginger again? What if he goes on for the rest of his life with the knowledge that he never told Adam he loves him?
He doesn't even realize that they're back at the apartment already until the car stops moving and Monte is shaking his shoulder to get him to snap back into reality. He sighs, unbuckling his seat belt and slipping out of the car, closing the door gently. He follows Monte into the apartment, before standing in the doorway and just staring around the room that is so familiar and yet alien all the same.
The living room is the same. He remembers the times he's seen Adam sprawled on the couch or standing in the hallway arch, leaning against the wall. He moves slowly, turning and staring down the hall towards the bedroom he and Adam shared. He walks, passing the bathroom as the memory of Adam cleaning his cuts and gently running smooth fingers over bruises that ached like a bitch. But that passes when he pushes the door of the bedroom open and staring inside.
It's just the same. His bass is in a corner, out of its case and collecting dust. There're a couple of articles of clothes of his that he vaguely remembers, and his eye catches a blue and black plaid shirt that he knows is not his. His knees feel like they're about to give out and he stumbles a little awkwardly towards the bed, reaching out and touching the fabric of shirt. He remembers Adam wearing it a few times at school. He grips the shirt, holding it up for a moment before setting it back down on the bed again. He pulls his hoodie up and over his head, tossing it down the floor and pulling the plaid shirt over his shoulders.
It's too big for him, but it smells like Adam and that's all he cares about. He presses his noses into the collar before climbing onto the bed and kicking off his shoes. It's as if he never left. He can feel Adams arms around him and Adam's scent sinking into his senses. Warm breaths on the back of his neck, and for the first time in a long time, Tommy allows himself a small, sad smile as the tears roll down his face and sink into the sheets and blankets. He grabs one and pulls it over himself. It, too, smells of Adam.
"Can I get some money?" It's the first thing he's said in two months. Monte swallows the bite of cereal he has in his mouth and looks up at Tommy, shocked and confused eyes gleaming in the afternoon sunlight that's pouring into the dining room through the kitchen. Tommy's standing in a pair of black jeans, black Converse, and Adam's plaid shirt. Monte sets his spoon down into the bowl before straightening in his chair.
"What do you need money for?" He asks, trying to hide the shock in his voice. Tommy licks his lips a little before speaking.
"I… I wanna go someplace else. Possibly get into a band. Start differently." He says. The negative and doubtful thoughts of traveling up to Washington have made him think twice. Monte said that Adam believes in the universe, that things happen for a reason and they last as long as they're meant to. Maybe he's not meant to see Adam again. Maybe he is. But he wants to start believing in something that makes sense. And he feels he'll do better if he leaves Los Angeles for a little while.
"Where do you want to go?" Monte questions after taking another bite of his cereal. Tommy sighs softly, shuffling over to the table and taking a seat. He knows in the back of his mind that this is going to be a decent conversation, and not the quick pass of words that he was really hoping for.
"Somewhere else. I don't know yet." Tommy says softly, staring down at the dining room table for a moment before looking up again. Monte inhales slowly, setting his spoon back down in the bowl before folding his hands on his lap and leaning back in his chair. It's as if he's lost in thought or is trying to piece together the right words to say. And he pieces them together faster than Tommy imagines.
"Are you going to look for Adam?"
He wants to say yes, but he also wants to say no. He swallows the lump in his throat that swells at Adam's name. It takes a few moments for his heart to calm down and for him to relax again, but he manages it and he gnaws on his bottom lip a little bit before he speaks.
"I don't know, yet. I might, I might not." Monte blinks once, before snorting. Tommy frowns at him. "What?"
"You might, you might not? What kind of an answer is that, Tommy?" Monte asks, his voice a little on the cold edge of polite.
"What do you mean what kind of an answer? It's an honest answer. I don't know." Tommy fires back, and he feels his heart beating a little faster again. So much for calming down.
"Tommy, you're fucking head over heels for Adam and yet your answer to finding him is 'I don't know'?" Now Tommy's getting angry.
"What do you want me to do, Monte? You said it yourself, he's shut himself off from us. Believe me, I want to find him. I want to find him and tell him I'm okay and that I love him, but what if he doesn't want to be found? What if he doesn't want anything to do with me?" Tommy shouts, standing from the chair. There's a dull aching nag in the back of his head, but he pushes it aside and takes a deep breath. He can't get worked up. He doesn't want to go back to the hospital again.
"Don't you dare think that he wants nothing to do with you, Tommy." Monte says angrily, however he remains in his chair, but he brings his hands up onto the table, still folded together. Tommy runs his fingers through his hair and inhales as slowly as he can.
"Then what am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to know how he felt, Monte? I was in a fucking coma for five months! All I wanted was to wake up and see Adam. And when that didn't happen, all I wanted to know why he wasn't coming, why he left!" His heart is pounding in his rib cage and he breathes hard, trying to calm down again. Monte sighs, rubbing his temples slowly before dropping his hands back to the table again.
"He left because he thought you would never wake up. He didn't want to get the phone call and hear you weren't getting better." Tommy stops. He just stops. He stops blinking, almost stops breathing. He stops thinking. He should have known. That should have been at the top of his list and yet it wasn't because he was being selfish. He takes a step back and slumps down, sitting on the arm of the couch and staring at the floor. He's ashamed of himself now.
"Look," Monte begins, standing from the table and crossing towards where he's sitting in the living room, "I know… You woke up and he didn't come around, and we didn't tell you. And I feel horrible for doing that, but I'd thought it would have been best for you. I didn't want you to get worked up and upset, but it seemed inevitable." Monte places his hand on Tommy's shoulder, and the blond looks over at him.
"But, Tommy… Just because he left doesn't mean he didn't care. He spent every day at your side when you were first taken to the hospital. Every single day that he could, he was there. He talked to you, sang to you. Sometimes he would just sit and hold your hand." Monte's voice is soft and gentle, and Tommy looks down at his hands, trying to imagine himself, asleep in that hospital bed and Adam at his side, holding onto him. He tries to imagine Adam singing to him, but he's almost forgotten what Adam's voice sounds like…
"I can get you money, and you can go. And if you find him, don't let him go." Monte says, and Tommy looks over at him for a moment, before nodding once.
He stands and goes down to the bedroom, packing a few things into a duffel bag. Clothes, the blanket on the bed, a few necessities and he grabs his bass. He loads it all into the car and Monte drives, taking him down to a small bank where he pulls five hundred dollars out in twenties. Not safe cash for traveling, but it's the best Monte can do and it's more than Tommy can ever thank him for. He promises to pay Monte back someday. Monte tells him not to worry about it.
The drive to the bus stop is quiet. Tommy stares out the window, wondering where he's gonna go and how long it's gonna take to get there. And then he remembers that it doesn't matter where he goes, just as long as he gets there and that he remembers to enjoy himself from time to time. He absent-mindedly plays with the hem of the plaid shirt. It still smells like Adam, and that makes him incredibly happy.
Monte pulls to a stop by the bus station. There's one coming from down the street. He doesn't care about the destination. He just wants to go. He gets out of the car, keeping the cash in his breast pocket, bound together in a rubber band. He sets his duffel bag and bass down at a bench at the stop. The bus is almost here. He turns towards Monte, before smiling and embracing the older the man. Monte's hands are large as they rub Tommy's back, but it's comforting, and he didn't realize how much he's going to miss Monte until.
"Take care of yourself, kid." Monte says. Tommy nods once, feeling the tears trailing down his face, and when he looks at Monte, he sees that the older male is crying too.
"Tell the Lambert's I say hi." He says softly, and Monte nods once. They shake hands one more time before Tommy grabs his stuff and climbs onto the bus. He takes his seat and turns his head out of the window, seeing Monte waving before the bus pulls away.