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Heavy steps are walking past, only a meter away of them. Suddenly the sound on the other side of the wall stops and Michael can feel how Adam’s fingers dig to his sides. Neither of them dares to even breathe. Finally, the steps start again and recede to the next alley.
In the gloom, Michael sees Adam slowly raise his head from his chest where he has been lying on, covering the other with his darker clothes.
“They didn’t seem to take the truth so well,” he whispers quietly and can feel better than hear Adam’s dry chuckle against his body.
“They are assholes,” the boy mumbles.
“You expressed that to them quite eloquently.”
He sees the small grin as Adam pushes himself off him to his knees. Cool fingers brush Michael’s skin when the boy pushes his shirt up to inspect the wound. It is long and moderately deep since neither of them expected such a strong reaction when the survivor group they had joined learnt Michael’s true identity. He hisses softly when Adam pours the alcohol into the cut.
“Don’t be a sissy. I have to clean it. God knows where their knifes have been.”
Michael relaxes against the wall. By now, he has learned not to argue with Adam about certain things. Even though they boy had already been dragged through the literal hell and the peace he had been promised after it, has turned out into this war zone, he still somehow keeps fighting, still searching for promised safe.
Adam shakes him from his thoughts by tossing him a water bottle from their small bag. “Drink it, you lost some blood. You are a human now, your body needs it,” he whispers lowly and before Michael can say anything about their shortage of supply, he continues, “You are the one of us with the military experience. It’s in the interest of my sorry ass to keep yours in a working condition. So shut up and drink.”
This is one of those battles Michael can’t win. He lets Adam work in peace as the boy starts to sew the wound. The water is warm and musty, but after the long run from the survivors’ camp, it doesn’t matter. He watches over the bottle how the too long blond hair falls over Adam’s down cast eyes as the boy concentrates. The circumstances have forced him to take a stance of a man much older than his own age. Michael reaches to brush some of the dried dirt from his cheek. I’ll keep you safe.
