Things weren't supposed to be like this. Max had met up with AEW higher ups a month ago. Made tentative plans to return, to pick up his career where mounting injuries had forced him to leave off. Had been looking forward to it, keep his focus on that and not the lingering signs that things weren't right. The furrowed brows of his rehab team, the murmurs and whispers at the last appointment he'd had.
It all crashes down around him when he gets a phone call. "Mr. Friedman," one of the nurses greet him. "We would like to make an appointment with you for the following week. Are you free?"
He immediately goes numb. "Ye- yeah," he manages, and works on autopilot through making the appointment. It's not on a Wednesday, so he hopes that Adam will be around. His eyes are downcast when Adam comes home, cheerful and just happy to be walking again, when he sobers, notices Max's mood.
"What's wrong, Max?" he asks, voice soothing, hand warm as he rests it on Max's leg, squeezing gently.
"Rehab team wants to talk to me," he says, lips feeling numb as he forces the words out. "Monday. Can you, uh." He shifts uncomfortably. "Can you come with? I... I don't want to be alone."
Adam frowns, rubbing soothing circles against Max's thigh. "Sure, I'll be there," he says. "Anything you need, Max. It'll be ok."
He doubts this, but he doesn't want to ruin Adam's mood so he nods, lacing their fingers together before guiding Adam's hand up to press kisses to his knuckles. "Thank you," he says softly.
Monday comes around and it goes about as badly as Max expects. Despite his best attempts, despite all of the months of rehab, his body isn't responding as they'd hoped. Surgery will be needed. Afterwards, he sits in the car, gripping his forearm, teeth gritted as he tries to breathe through the sudden panic thrumming through him. Yet again, he's let Adam down, he's let AEW down, he's let the fans down. He's just a failure. Head spinning with negativity, he's close to full on spiraling when he feels the car jostle under him and cool fingers curl around his own.
"Max," Adam's voice cuts through his selfdisgust. "Max! Hey, hey, it's going to be ok. Let go, baby, let go. You're going to hurt yourself."
"What does it matter," he gasps through the unending torment his mind's become since his rehab specialist had opened his mouth. "What does any of it matter? I fucked it all up again, fuck- fuck-"
Adam moves quickly, getting an arm around him, drawing him in, tucking him in tightly. "You didn't," he says softly into Max's hair, pressing kisses against his curls. "You didn't ruin anything, anymore than I did when I fucked up my ankle. Come on, Max. This is just one of those unfortunate things with wrestling."
Max shakes his head, despairing, "I'm sorry," he mutters into Adam's shoulder. "I'm so damn sorry."
"Hey, you didn't accept any of my apologies when I fucked up my ankle," Adam reminds him. "And I'm not accepting this, because there's nothing for you to apologize about. It's going to be ok. I'm gonna be right by your side, like you were by mine after my surgeries. Ok?"
"I don't deserve you," Max mumbles.
"Yes you do," Adam says, rocking him back and forth gently. "Now come on, let's get home. I'll stay with you when you call Tony. It's going to be ok."
"He's going to be so disappointed," Max mumbles, fiddling with the ends of Adam's ponytail as he looks blankly out of the car window, still held tightly in Adam's arms.
"Maybe a little," Adam says softly. "But I think he'll be more concerned about you in the long run. You know Tony."
"Yeah." Max sniffs and finally pulls away, unable to meet Adam's eyes as he squeezes Max's good arm. "I'm sorry. You start to get healthy again, and now I- I..."
"I get to return the favor," Adam interrupts him. "All of the months you've taken care of me. It's my turn."
Max sighs, shaking his head. "Shouldn't be your responsibility," he mumbles.
"And yet it is, and I'm glad to do it," Adam tells him, brushing his thumbs over Max's lips. "Come here." He pulls him in carefully, pressing kisses to his face. "It's going to be ok. I promise you."
Max's lips tremble under Adam's ministrations and he sighs, finally looking up to meet his eyes, tears filling his. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Adam smiles gently at him and rests their foreheads together, letting Max take a few minutes to breathe, let his thoughts settle.
"Ok," he sighs. "Let's go home."
Adam smiles at him. "That's my guy," he says fondly, kissing Max one more time before turning to start the car up. He reaches over once they're on the road and laces their fingers together, squeezing Max's hand, a steady reminder that everything will be fine.