Chapter Text
“I told you, I’m fuckin’ fine.” Adam hisses as he tries to move away from Lawrence.
Lawrence’s hands are gentle as he coaxes Adam back to him.
They both sit on Lawrence’s assigned bed, Adam’s shirt thrown to the side. The blood soaking into Lawrence’s new sheets.
He got out, only just barely making it out of the room before he collapsed onto the ground. Half dead and bleeding. Roadkill you see that’s still twitching. That still needs to get shot or hit with a car or else it’ll lay there until it starves or dies of infection.
Lawrence still hasn’t pieced together how he managed to drag himself here. His foot smashed, all the bones shattered. The skin limp.
According to John it was enough. He had won the game.
Lawrence had only been out for a few days before Adam showed up. Before Hoffman had thrown him into Lawrence’s room.
Apparently Adam had asked for him. He doesn’t let himself dwell on that.
“You’re not.” Lawrence pleads, his voice hoarse. “You need help.”
“I don’t need shit.” Adam mutters, using his ‘good’ arm to swat Lawrence’s hand away once more. He winces as he moves.
Lawrence stares at him, anger swirling in his gut.
He knows it’s shock, it’s the fact that Adam laid there for days bleeding out before he shattered his foot to pieces and crawled out.
He knows it’s the fact that Adam got shot. That his life was almost normal before this and it’ll never be again. That he had to smash someone’s head in with part of a toilet before they shot him. That he was meant to die.
He was doomed from the start.
But Lawrence is tired. He still needs to heal too. He sawed his own foot off for fucks sake and Adam just won’t listen. Even with his eyes half open and the fact that he can't sit up straight, he still keeps denying Lawrence’s help.
“Adam,” He tries again, his hand grabbing Adam’s arm so gently their skin barely touches. Adam still hisses in pain as it does. “If you don’t let me help it’ll be someone else, they won’t be as nice as me.” He’s speaking less softly now, half of his brain tells him to treat Adam like any other patient.
The other half knows he’s so much more.
“I don’t want your fucking help.” Adam slurs. “None of you-“
Before he can finish talking, Lawrence decides enough is enough and presses his thumb against the bullet wound on Adam’s shoulder.
Adam makes a pathetic noise and moves backwards, trying desperately to get away from Lawrence.
“Lay down.” Lawrence commands, his hand moves with Adam until he’s laying back on the bed, his arm draped over his face.
He’s crying.
Guilt gnaws at the corners of Lawrence’s mind.
He said he wouldn’t leave Adam and he won’t. He’ll fix it after this. He’ll be okay.
He takes a breath and grabs the shitty first-aid kit Hoffman had given him.
Needle and thread, sanitize the needle with a lighter, thread the needle.
Into the skin- wait.
Warn Adam first.
“I need to start sewing your shoulder up.” Lawrence says, his voice steady. “It’s going to hurt but it’ll be better in the long run.”
Adam doesn’t answer, just hiccups out a sob.
“Hold still.”
Needle into the skin.
Adam whines and shifts backwards, Lawrence smooths his free hand over the skin of Adam’s chest, he’s hot to the touch.
Adam stills.
Pull the thread though, needle into skin.
He repeats it until the skin is closed tightly, tighter than it would’ve been in a hospital. Lawrence doesn’t give himself the time to go back and fix it.
“You did good.”
This is what he did at the hospital, fix the person first, make sure they won’t die then you can comfort them.
He’d never been the best at this part.
“We can be over for a bit.. but your foot,” His eyes go from Adam’s shoulder to his foot, it looks awful.
Deflated.
His stomach churns as he remembers the noise it made when Adam had been brought into his room, when his foot hit the edge of the bed and he could hear the bones squelch against each other.
“That needs to get checked too.” He finally finished after a moment of silence.
Adam doesn’t respond, his arm still thrown over his eyes.
It doesn’t hide his face well, Lawrence can still see his face, he can see how tightly Adam’s eyes are shut, how tears cleaned away some of the dirt and blood. How his lips are a thin, chapped, line, bleeding on the side where Adam must’ve bitten into them waiting for Lawrence.
Lawrence’s bloody hand print is still on Adam’s face. He stares at it. He wants to place his hand there again, to match each finger up and promise him the same things he did in that room.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
“Adam.” Lawrence tries again. “You need to say something, even if it’s small.”
God knows he won’t be able to do anything if Adam dies now. He’d sit there and have to watch as the life drained out of him.
No, he’d made it this far.
He moves Adam’s arm away from his face. Adam’s eyes stay closed.
“I’m-” Adam stops talking.
What is he supposed to say? He’s fine? He almost died but he’s fine?
No, he doesn’t have to lie to Lawrence like that.
He gets it, he wouldn’t say it either.
There’s a girl here, what’s her name?
Amanda.
She’s real jumpy, keeps asking Lawrence if he’s fine. He doesn’t answer her.
She should know- she must’ve went through something similar. He doesn’t ask her what, though. He doesn’t want to know.
“Yep.” Adam finishes, the word pushing its way through his gritted teeth.
“Yeah.” Lawrence replies softly. “I’ll see if I can get you any pain meds whenever someone comes back in.” He shifts his weight underneath him and groans in pain. “I can’t exactly leave my bed yet.”
“Yep.”
———-
Only twenty minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.
Lawrence looks up from Adam, whose eyes are still closed, less tightly, but still closed.
“Yeah, come in.” He calls out, and the door opens.
Hoffman looms in the doorway, blocking any light from leaking into the room.
“He alive?” He asks, his voice gruff.
He doesn’t sound concerned. Like he’s asking on a technicality, not the fact that Adam is a person, like he wouldn’t care if he wasn’t.
Lawrence swallows thickly.
“He’s alive..” He looks down at Adam. Lawrence moves his hand to Adam’s chest once more, hoping the motion might soothe him, it seemed to last time. A feeling that isn’t pain.
“Do you have any pain medication? I don’t want to do his foot without any.”
“You wanna do his foot?” Hoffman laughs, taking a step into the room.
Lawrence rolls his eyes, out of him and Amanda he’d choose Amanda. Drug addict over the psycho.
“You’re not funny, I’m serious.” He deadpans. “He’s not doing good.”
Hoffman scoffs. “I’ll see what I can find. Wouldn’t be surprised if Amanda took them all, though.”
Lawrence doesn’t respond and Hoffman leaves without any further word.
Hoffman returns soon and helps Lawrence drug Adam up. Lawrence has to bite his tongue to keep himself quiet as he watches Hoffman shove the pills down Adams throat.
‘He’s fragile.’ He wants to yell at Hoffman. He shouldn’t even be touching him- he didn’t ask for help.
“I don’t know what to do about his foot.” Lawrence admits, frowning down at the (now unconscious) Adam. “I don’t have any of my equipment.”
Hoffman nods. “I can take him to Kramer.”
“I don’t want you to take him.”
“Don’t be a fag.” Hoffman spits. “I’m not gonna fuck him.”
Lawrence doesn’t answer, knowing damn well he’ll get himself into trouble if he opens his mouth.
He’s not a.. He has a wife.
He had a wife. He was married, they have a daughter.
They return a few hours later, Adam still passed out. Only now there’s a bandage around his shoulder and a cast around his foot. Lawrence ignores the pang of jealousy as he stares at the cast. That’s the last thing they need.
Adam wakes soon, moving quickly to sit himself up before the pain of his shoulder registers and he falls back down.
“Ow, fuck!” Adam shouts. Lawrence moves his hand to keep him laying.
“Don’t move.. I don’t want you to rip your stitches.”
“What the fuck?” Adam yells again, moving under Lawrence’s hand.
Not quite trying to get away, just moving. Just feeling the weight of Lawrence’s hand on him. It’s familiar, these hands have touched him before.
The memory's foggy but it’s there, his hand was colder, sticky.
Red, slick with blood. Lawrence’s blood. His hand on Adam’s cheek. Promising him he wouldn’t leave him.
He didn’t, did he?
“Adam, you have to calm down.” His voice is firm, authoritative. “If you don’t I’ll have to..” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but his eyes flicker down to Adam’s shoulder.
Adam takes a deep, shuttering breath and nods. He doesn’t want that.
“Okay. Okay.”
“Okay.” Lawrence repeats. “Thank you.”
“Where are we?” Adam asks, his voice smaller now.
“We’re safe.” Lawrence says, looking anywhere but Adam.
Adam takes a breath, trying to calm himself.
Yelling won’t help.
A week ago, he wouldn’t have trusted Lawrence. If Lawrence had even tried to talk to him he would’ve spit in his face and walked away.
He still wants to, it still sits heavy in the back of his mind. But something is different. Either it’s the blood loss, their shared near-death experience or whatever drugs he might be on but in spite of himself.. he wants to believe Lawrence.
“Safe.. isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the best I can give you.. we don’t have anywhere else to go right now.” Lawrence hesitates before he talks again. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Fuck you, dude,” Adam groans, groggily pushing Lawrence’s hand off of him.
He still left. Adam got himself out. Whatever bullshit Lawrence has told himself to try to make him feel better won’t work on Adam.
Lawrence wasn’t even there. Adam had watched Lawrence get out. He got out by himself- no one was there to yell for him as he broke every bone in his own damn foot. No one cried for him when his blood smeared against Zep’s on a fucking toilet lid. When the skin in his foot ripped open as he slid it out of the chain.
He was alone.
No one helped him crawl down the hall, no idea where to go except for the fact that he needed to follow the trail of Lawrence’s blood. Adam’s hands going over Lawrence’s smeared blood. In some places he could make out handprints.
He counted them, however many fingers he could make out. Anything to keep himself lucid, awake. Alive.
Then he makes it out of the building and the second the sun hits his face he passes out. He thinks. He doesn’t remember anything past that.
All of that to wake up in bed with the same fucking guy he was trapped with.
If that’s not some kind of joke he doesn’t know what is.
“You can’t throw a fit or else you’ll hurt yourself again. That won’t help anything.” Lawrence huffs, annoyed.
He blinks hard, trying to make himself think straight. Adam just needs to stop arguing.
He sounds like Lawrence’s fucking wife. That’s the last thing he needs to deal with right now.-
“Whatever.” Adam huffs, like a teenager who got caught doing something he shouldn’t. After a bit of struggle he manages to turn himself away from Lawrence, biting back groans whenever he moves something wrong.
Lawrence doesn’t pry, he doesn’t say anything else. He just bites his tongue and keeps his mouth shut. It’s better that way. Fucking let Adam calm down. Have him stop acting like a child then he’ll listen.
They sit in silence, Lawrence doesn’t let himself lay down, just stays propped up, his back flush against the wall. He stares at Adams back, he makes his own breathing quiet so he can hear the quick, pained ones coming from Adam.
He’s not sure if he’s listening to make sure Adam’s alive or his own pleasure.
A few minutes later he hears Adam's breath become less rapid. He watches as Adam’s shoulders stop shaking whenever he breathes, each breath slow and even.
He watches as Adam’s neck relaxes, and his head falls into the pillow.
It hits him that he’s never seen Adam this calm, that besides today the only time he’d seen Adam was when they were fighting for their life.
Adam grabbing onto his arms, their blood mixing together like paint. Adam begging Lawrence not to leave him. Lawrence listened to his screams as he dragged himself out of the bathroom, his sobs begging Lawrence to come back, to get him out too.
Lawrence had half a mind to grab the saw and cut Adam’s foot off too. A part of them both left in the bathroom.
In a way there still is.
But he had left. He had to get help- he was going to save Adam but no one would listen to him. No one would let him out, no one would let him go save him.
He watches Adam as he sleeps for quite some time. He’s not sure how long, just that it’s long enough for the rest of the building to fall into silence as well.