A/N: I meant to finish this and upload it before tonight's episode of Dynamite, but things happened that sapped my interest in writing over the weekend (RIP Billy Miller, I hope you're at peace now) but I decided ultimately to go ahead, finish it, and upload it afterwards anyway.
Adam Cole feels himself drifting in and out as he's helped backstage after Joe's attack, every breath and shift of his head sending a dull pain down his throat. He exhales shakily, gripping one of the referee's arms, trying to keep his focus from swimming so badly just in case. He's not felt this alone in a long time, and it's kind of a relief to be deposited onto the cot in the doctor's office, though he knows it's only a vague kind of safety. If Joe really wanted to target him, or anyone else, they could just as easily here as anywhere else.
He's laid there for a few minutes, arm resting over his eyes, trying to ignore the steady pain from his jaw to his collar bone, certain that he's going to have some hideous bruising there, when there's a light tap on his forearm. He pulls his arm away and squints up at one of the medical staff they keep on hand just in case, his phone in her hand. "Sorry," she says. "It wouldn't stop ringing."
He exhales, nodding a thanks at her before taking it from her. His voice is rough, each word feeling like sandpaper against his throat, but he tries. "Hello?"
"Shit," he hears, followed by a shaky exhale. "Adam?"
"Max?" he murmurs, trying to limit how much more stress he puts his poor throat through.
"I'm going to kill him," Max says vehemently and Adam closes his eyes, slumping back against the bed.
"Max..."
"No, don't try to talk me out of it, he's gone way too damn far."
Adam exhales, trying to find the words- the energy- to speak, anything. "Max, please," he manages, and this seems to deflate some of the anger bubbling over in the other man.
"Shit," he repeats. "Are you- where are you?"
"Medical," he says.
"Ok, look, I'll take of things, don't worry about it. Just... relax, and tell me what I can do to make this better." He sounds desperate, aching in a way that Adam Cole never would've believed out of Maxwell Jacob Friedman even three months earlier.
"I want to get out of here," Adam says, relieved and amazed he could manage even that much of a sentence.
"Ok, buddy, yeah, I can handle that," Max says, words coming faster as he's finally given something he can actually handle. "Uh, Florida or..." He falters a moment. "Long Island?"
Adam barely takes a minute to think about it, just wanting to see Max, make sure he really is ok after everything, not about to go off the deep end and do something that will make Wednesday worse. "Long Island."
"Great," Max says. "I'll send your ticket and flight info to your phone as soon as I have it."
"Thank you," he sighs. When his phone beeps a couple minutes later, he listlessly lifts it and squints at it. "Got it."
"Great," Max says, voice still clipped with anger. "I'll see you soon."
"See you," Adam murmurs.
AEW staff go above and beyond to make sure Adam gets on his flight in one piece, and he's pretty sure Max had something to do with that too, but he's still so dizzy and sore that he doesn't really mind it for once. He figures he must doze in and out for most of the flight, because it takes a flight attendant's hand on his arm, lightly shaking him, to stir him.
"Sir, we're landing," she says patiently, helping him to put his seatbelt back on. "I'll come back over to check on you as soon as we're down," she promises before walking out of his line of sight.
He barely registers when she comes back around, though, eager just to get off of the plane, see Max, go back to his place and rest his eyes, which are still swimming. It feels... it feels uncomfortably familiar, and he hates how vulnerable he feels right now.
He doesn't remember the trip through the airport, the only thing he can really focus on being his fingers digging into the handle of his luggage, then there's a hand on his arm, and he twists around, expecting another attack- expecting-
"Whoa, whoa, Adam, it's me."
Adam breathes a little easier, realizing it's Max staring back at him, brown eyes wide and worried. "Max," he manages, leaning into his warmth a bit.
"Hey, man, c'mon, let's get you home." Max gently pulls his suitcase out of his grip, ignoring Adam's muted protests, and rests a hand on Adam's back, guiding him the rest of the way out of the airport.
Fresh air feels nice and Adam breathes in deep, trusting Max to guide him where he needs to go. Max easing him into his car a few minutes later leaves Adam relaxing fully for the first time since he'd gotten attacked from behind, even finding it a little easier to breathe while surrounded by one of Max's many extravagant vehicles. He even manages to remain conscious through the drive, content to sit back and listen to Max's frustrated mumbling about traffic, his ease at guiding the vehicle through the streets.
"Adam?" Max asks once he's parked, turning towards his tag partner. "Still with me, bud?" His hand is warm on Adam's forearm, and Adam slowly blinks his eyes open, turning his head to look at Max.
"Yeah. We at your place?"
"Yes." Max's eyes are resting on his throat again, and Adam tries not to flinch as he swallows. "Fuck, Adam." His hand hovers over the bruises there before quickly pulling away. "C'mon, let's get you inside. Some food, some sleep, it'll help."
Adam's relieved to let Max take charge, following him into the building and through the maze of hallways and elevators that eventually leads them to Max's door, Max quickly unlocking it and resting a hand on Adam's back, encouraging him to enter.
"You hungry? We have leftovers, or I can get delivery," Max says, restless in speech and movement as he wanders around the kitchen, peering into his fridge and digging into his drawer for a pile of menus. "Whatever you want. Just name it."
"Leftovers are fine," Adam says, too tired to wait for delivery. "What do you have?"
Max returns to the fridge, his brows narrowed in a frown as he examines its contents again. "Pizza? There's some garlic bread too."
"That works," Adam says with a sigh, overwhelmed by a wave of relief when Max motions him into the living room while they wait for the microwave to ding. "You're not enforcing couch rules tonight?"
"I'll make an exception," Max says, joining him a little bit later and handing over a plate.
"Thanks," Adam says, relieved to have something warm to eat. Chewing doesn't feel that great, but he knows he needs to eat after the long day he's had. Casting his eyes around the living room, he smirks a little at the video game systems that Max has clearly been playing around with on his week off, turning to look at him.
Max is focused on his own food, only just looking up in time to see Adam look away. "What?" he mumbles, turning to glance at the abandoned controllers. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I was practicing a little with some of those dorky games. What the hell is up with that Dead By Daylight? People are jackasses in it."
Adam chuckles, then shrugs. "So," he says, Max's frown growing as he makes him wait by biting into another slice of pizza. Once he finishes swallowing, he smiles at Max. "You said anything I wanted, right?"
Max looks confused. "You're still hungry?"
"Not food," Adam says, nudging at one of the nearest controllers with the toe of his shoe. "I think we're both too keyed up to sleep, so. Video games."
"Oh, shit," Max whines. "What do you have planned?"
All Adam can do is grin at him before getting up to get rid of his plates. "You'll see," he says with a mischievous glint in his eye, leaving Max flummoxed, holding a rapidly cooling slice of pizza in hand.
"Adam?!"
-x
Once the pizza has been cleared away, Max rolls his eyes even as he obligingly gets his controllers set up. "I can't believe you're making me play this," he grouses. "I hate it, you get that, right?"
"I think everyone hates it," Adam says. "At least a little bit. That's part of its charm."
"Ugh, god," Max huffs, growing even more frustrated as music begins filling the room, the garishly bright opening of Fall Guys lighting up his screen. "Unbelievable, we could be doing absolutely anything right now and you want to watch me do this."
"Yep," Adam smirks, eyes twinkling when Max slumps down next to him. "C'mon, man, it'll be fun." He nudges Max lightly, watching as Max flicks at the buttons, restless. "I won't make you play for that long."
"You and I have vastly different ideas about long, when it comes to this game." Max frowns at the screen, scrolling through the store and finding nothing interesting there.
"Just until you finish the daily challenges," Adam suggests. "How's that?"
"That's at least six games," Max says, aghast.
"Yeah. I mean, if you don't think you can manage finishing them by then," Adam says, leaning back with a smirk.
"Oh please, I'll have those lame ass challenges finished so quickly, you'll see why I don't play this more often, because it's so damn boring," Max rants, starting a solo game while Adam chuckles and settles in more comfortably to watch.
"Fuckin unbelievable!" Max rages a few minutes later, pressing the buttons on his controller angrily, trying to avoid everyone who are currently after him. "Second game they put me in is TAIL TAG?! I hate this game. Oh my god, these little freaks stole my tail-" he rages on, only slightly distracted by Adam's shaking shoulders next to him. "Whose side are you on?!"
"Yours, always," Adam laughs. "Just, sorry. Really. It feels good to laugh though." He's been running himself ragged, wanting to spend time with Max, while concerned about Roddy, and it's been showing by the exhaustion in his eyes. Add in Joe, and yeah. Ok. Max will allow him this. For now.
"You're lucky I like you," Max mumbles, reluctantly starting up another Solo game.
"I know I am," Adam says, the sincerity in his voice easing more of the anger pulsing through Max.
Later, Max grumbles. "Oh my god, I hate this... fun factory or whatever it's called."
"Frantic factory," Cole supplies after a few moments.
"Whatever the hell it's- Oh come on!" Max seethes as a bean leaps onto a yellow button in front of him and disappears, having qualified. "Thieving little-" he continues to rant until he leaps up and manages one, then two yellow buttons in a row, just barely qualifying himself. "Ha!" he cheers, only just bothering to keep a hand on his controller in his excitement. "Adam, did you-"
His voice cuts off as soon as he registers the weight against his shoulder, looking over and down to find Adam slumped to the side, face pressed into Max's arm, fast asleep. "Well, shit," he mumbles. "You force me to play this shitty game, and then fall asleep before the biggest accomplishment I've gotten in it thus far?"
He huffs and rolls his eyes, putting his controller down long enough to get a hand under Adam's jaw, adjusting him. "You're going to be the one with neck issues if you sleep like that." He eases Adam down until his head is resting more comfortably on his thigh, exhaling slowly when the other man only stirs for a second, drifting back asleep almost immediately. "Guess I can stop playing now." But he frowns down at Adam, shaking his head. "You'd probably be pissed if I don't finish those stupid daily challenges like I said I would, huh? Fine."
Wondering at himself, not for the first time, Max begins another game, determined to see this through. Highly conscious of the sleeping man in his lap, he keeps quiet, only cursing out every player in his head- and ok, a couple times out loud, that thankfully Adam sleeps through- as the game continues and he keeps getting sabotaged one way or another by the immature brats playing alongside him.
Between rounds, Max finds himself watching Adam sleep more than the idiots on the screen, and even running his fingers through Adam's hair when games take too damn long to finish up and he starts to feel jittery. "You know I'm going to destroy Joe for this," he mumbles, examining the finger shaped bruising around Adam's throat that's only gotten worse as time goes by. "No matter what it takes. He ain't taking anything from me. I promise."
-x
There's light in Adam's eyes. He stirs slowly, not wanting to move away from the deep sleep that he'd been lost in, but again... that light. He groans lightly and blinks his eyes open, frowning while looking towards the window. It's still dark outside and he frowns, growing more and more confused until he hears music playing faintly from across the room.
Realizing it's coming from the screen across from him, he blinks sluggishly at the Fall Guys screen that's sitting idle there, biting his lip. "What the-?" he mumbles, shifting to sit up... and feeling something slide off of his waist. His frown grows until he's properly upright, then realizing- he had fallen asleep in Max's living room, on Max's couch, which means...
He turns and blinks, finding his tag partner deeply asleep, head tipped back against the couch in an angle that clearly will do nothing for his neck issues from the last few weeks, game controller still held in his hand. Which means, considering how close Adam is sitting to him currently, that... he had fallen asleep at some point while watching Max play Fall Guys and instead of waking him up, Max had...
Eyes softening, Adam reaches over and lightly tugs the game controller out of Max's slack grip, turning Fall Guys off and sitting in the silence for a moment before beginning to move. He's still a little sore- his throat is already aching before he's even said that much, but he feels a lot clearer than earlier, the uninterrupted hours of sleep helping him. "C'mon, Max," he says, lightly pushing him until he eases over, curling up on the couch with a sleepy sigh.
Once content that Max is sleeping more comfortably, Adam finds a blanket and drapes it over Max's prone body before leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. "G'night, man. See you tomorrow."
They'll have to strategize on how to handle Joe, and Adam will have to check in on Roddy at some point in the morning, but for now, all he needs to do is collapse in the guest bedroom and sleep off the rest of his body's aches and pains, give Max one less thing to worry about in the days leading up to his title defense.
Adam forces himself to stop thinking about it all, choosing instead to remember Max's indignation at once more having to play Fall Guys, laughing quietly to himself as he rolls over and adjusts the pillows under him. He drifts back to sleep with a small smile on his face.