Chapter Text
Liam takes another staggering breath as he reaches the top of the Bridgeport Smokestack. A shaky hand grabs hold of the railing in an attempt to steady himself. He stands there on the platform for a few seconds, trying to calm his nerves by slowly breathing in and out. Just like
Scenty
Amelia taught him.
He runs a hand through his coily hair and breathes out a sigh. It’s dark. It’s cold. It’s wet. His clothes are muddy. His hair is a mess. Liam would rather be anywhere but here right now. For a moment, he wishes he was still in
Soda Bottle’s
Bryce’s apartment, letting the gentle sound of rain lull him into a peaceful slumber. It didn’t rain on The Plane. It was never dark on The Plane. Just that constant, burning, unnatural brightness of that strange, artificial sun. Those grass blades. That ocean.
It’s the little things that still get him. These little symbols of living , of the passage of time, of normalcy or whatever. Little things that seem tiny and insignificant in isolation, but when put together, are key parts of the shared human experience. The little things that were robbed of him for the past seven months. His short time in Bryce’s apartment was a jarring reminder of all that he had lost. The pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window at night. The smell of coffee brewing in the morning. The view of the sunrise and sunset. All of these little things.
Liam feels water droplets roll down his face. He’s crying but he doesn’t know why. It’s still raining. He shuts his eyes and practices breathing again. In and out. Slow and steady. Somebody else is climbing up the ladder, and Liam soon hears footsteps approaching him. Lightning flashes for a split second. Thunder roars in the distance.
“Liam.”
That familiar, harsh, deep voice calls out to him. His heart leaps in his chest, and his grip on the railing tightens, but he slowly turns his head to meet Bryce’s intense gaze. The taller man looks down at him (literally, because of the height difference), his arms folded tightly, and an inscrutable expression written across his face. Is he angry? After what Liam has done, it would certainly make sense. Suddenly Liam feels small and ashamed. He looks down at his muddy, scuffed shoes. Bryce has been so kind to you, and this is how you repay him?
Bryce must have sensed his discomfort. His eyes soften a little bit, and he relaxes his shoulders. He just wants Liam to be safe. He doesn’t want him doing anything rash or irresponsible that could get him hurt.
“Liam?”
He says his name again, his voice now gentler than before. Liam feels his breath hitch in his throat. What’s happening? Maybe he’s not angry at him. Maybe he even feels bad for him. What a pitiful sight he must be. Soaked in rain, covered in mud, trembling like a newborn lamb. You really are pathetic. Why are you still here?
“Liam!”
Third time’s the charm. Bryce’s voice cuts through the city ambience once more, snapping Liam out of his self deprecating thoughts. He remembers how to breathe. His hands are gripping the railing as if his life depended on it. As if he were dangling over a cliff edge and this was his only support. He practically needs to force himself to move. After prying his hands off of the cold metal, he takes a step back and finally looks up again.
“Bryce…”
He tried to give a firm response, but his voice comes out only as a weak whimper. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Are… are you mad at me?”
Bryce sighs in response.
“Of course I am! How could I not be? You stole my keys, crashed my car, and could have gotten yourself hurt!”
Liam winces at his sharp tone. He thinks he was undeserving of Bryce’s kindness. He thinks Bryce would be better off without him.
“But… we can deal with that later, okay? Please just come home”
Something about that last word, struck a chord in Liam’s heart. More tears were flowing now.
Home? Bryce’s home? Their home?
He wanted to facepalm. How could he have been so stupid. Telling himself he had nothing left to lose, treating his life like it was disposable. All this, when right in front of him was tangible evidence pointing to the opposite.
He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie and nodded at Bryce. The next few days would be tough, but they’d get through it. Everything will be okay.