Shades of Gray
Title: Shades of Gray
Prompt: Ostracized from Society
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Ten years later, former domestic help, Adam is trying to live as a free man, but has no one to turn to, until he remembers something old friend, Kris gave him. (Slave AU)
It had been ten years since Adam had last seen Kris.
Once he graduated, Adam steered clear of the high school, the ball games, and everywhere he might run into the kid who changed his life so dramatically just by being willing to put himself out there.
The thing of it was, at twenty-eight, Adam had been let go. The husband of the family he worked for had recently passed, and the wife, it turned out, had strong feelings about mistreating the help. So she had let him go.
But he had nowhere to go. He had no idea where his parents were. He had no friends and no relatives. No one wanted to take in domestic help out of the goodness of their hearts. They were seen as low-class people, with no self-respect. And, Adam knew by now, no one would hire him unless he had an address. He could fake one, but that only held up so long.
For weeks, he had been living and sleeping wherever he could. Used to the outdoors and being in the open, Adam took comfort in seeing the sky at night, even when it was cold, or raining.
Outside meant freedom, even if he had to live being shunned by the people of his city.
The only piece of hope he had was the ten-digit phone number that Adam had memorized the minute he'd seen it, scrawled on the inside of Kris's wrist.
But would Kris even remember him? Would he still care, even after all these years, about what happened to Adam? Would the number still work? Would Kris even remember him? Would he care to be friends with someone who kept company with the homeless, the drug addicts, the alcoholics and the outcasts?
He imagined Kris now - twenty-four or twenty-five, probably married, with a good job. Whatever Kris did now, it probably involved people, and listening, and caring, because Kris was great at all those things.
Adam stopped at an old dirty pay phone and shut himself in. He dug around in his pocket for change, and shut his eyes, feeling lightheaded from hunger, as he dialed the number.
"Hello?"
Adam's breath caught.
"Kris?" he asked, not quite believing he'd found him this easily.
"Yes, it is. Who is this?"
Adam's gut twisted at the suddenly formal tone Kris adapted.
"I don't know if you remember me...but this is Adam?" It still felt weird to use his name when identifying himself, rather than a set of numbers. "We went to school together, and you...you gave me this number a long time ago..."
"Adam?" Kris managed, incredulous. "Where are you?"
Adam rattled off an intersection in a bad part of the city, and blinked as he heard Kris, who sounded so much like a man now, barked out an order.
"Stay right there. I'm coming to get you."
--
"You really don't have to do this..." Adam hedged. "I don't want to impose on your wife or your family."
Kris shook his head, dismissing Adam's concerns. "Didn't I tell you you could always come over? Always, Adam. That day or ten years down the road, makes no difference to me."
"How'd you have the same number?" Adam asked, mystified.
"Cell phone," Kris answered, pulling into a neat neighborhood where every house had flowers in front Adam wondered who tended them.
"You don't have to take me in like this. I'm fine on my own," he objected. "The free world doesn't like to get involved in cases like us."
Suddenly, Kris pulled to the side of the road, and Adam flinched, as if for a beating.
"I'm not gonna hit you. Jesus, Adam. Not everything is black and white, okay? People like me can care about you. And you're not a case, you're a person. Someone who deserves to be treated with respect, just like all of us."
Kris sounded so very much like a teacher that Adam was sure he had figured out Kris's profession.
"Now, you're going to come in and meet my wife," Kris said calmly, pulling back on the road again. "You're gonna join us for dinner, and stay a while. As a guest. Okay?"
Adam blinked. He wasn't quite sure what a guest did, but Kris's tone had left no room at all for arguement. They pulled into a pretty drive, and Kris got out, waiting expectently for Adam to follow.
"Okay," he stuttered.
And as Kris opened the door, Adam breathed a sigh of relief.
Prompt: Ostracized from Society
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Ten years later, former domestic help, Adam is trying to live as a free man, but has no one to turn to, until he remembers something old friend, Kris gave him. (Slave AU)
It had been ten years since Adam had last seen Kris.
Once he graduated, Adam steered clear of the high school, the ball games, and everywhere he might run into the kid who changed his life so dramatically just by being willing to put himself out there.
The thing of it was, at twenty-eight, Adam had been let go. The husband of the family he worked for had recently passed, and the wife, it turned out, had strong feelings about mistreating the help. So she had let him go.
But he had nowhere to go. He had no idea where his parents were. He had no friends and no relatives. No one wanted to take in domestic help out of the goodness of their hearts. They were seen as low-class people, with no self-respect. And, Adam knew by now, no one would hire him unless he had an address. He could fake one, but that only held up so long.
For weeks, he had been living and sleeping wherever he could. Used to the outdoors and being in the open, Adam took comfort in seeing the sky at night, even when it was cold, or raining.
Outside meant freedom, even if he had to live being shunned by the people of his city.
The only piece of hope he had was the ten-digit phone number that Adam had memorized the minute he'd seen it, scrawled on the inside of Kris's wrist.
But would Kris even remember him? Would he still care, even after all these years, about what happened to Adam? Would the number still work? Would Kris even remember him? Would he care to be friends with someone who kept company with the homeless, the drug addicts, the alcoholics and the outcasts?
He imagined Kris now - twenty-four or twenty-five, probably married, with a good job. Whatever Kris did now, it probably involved people, and listening, and caring, because Kris was great at all those things.
Adam stopped at an old dirty pay phone and shut himself in. He dug around in his pocket for change, and shut his eyes, feeling lightheaded from hunger, as he dialed the number.
"Hello?"
Adam's breath caught.
"Kris?" he asked, not quite believing he'd found him this easily.
"Yes, it is. Who is this?"
Adam's gut twisted at the suddenly formal tone Kris adapted.
"I don't know if you remember me...but this is Adam?" It still felt weird to use his name when identifying himself, rather than a set of numbers. "We went to school together, and you...you gave me this number a long time ago..."
"Adam?" Kris managed, incredulous. "Where are you?"
Adam rattled off an intersection in a bad part of the city, and blinked as he heard Kris, who sounded so much like a man now, barked out an order.
"Stay right there. I'm coming to get you."
--
"You really don't have to do this..." Adam hedged. "I don't want to impose on your wife or your family."
Kris shook his head, dismissing Adam's concerns. "Didn't I tell you you could always come over? Always, Adam. That day or ten years down the road, makes no difference to me."
"How'd you have the same number?" Adam asked, mystified.
"Cell phone," Kris answered, pulling into a neat neighborhood where every house had flowers in front Adam wondered who tended them.
"You don't have to take me in like this. I'm fine on my own," he objected. "The free world doesn't like to get involved in cases like us."
Suddenly, Kris pulled to the side of the road, and Adam flinched, as if for a beating.
"I'm not gonna hit you. Jesus, Adam. Not everything is black and white, okay? People like me can care about you. And you're not a case, you're a person. Someone who deserves to be treated with respect, just like all of us."
Kris sounded so very much like a teacher that Adam was sure he had figured out Kris's profession.
"Now, you're going to come in and meet my wife," Kris said calmly, pulling back on the road again. "You're gonna join us for dinner, and stay a while. As a guest. Okay?"
Adam blinked. He wasn't quite sure what a guest did, but Kris's tone had left no room at all for arguement. They pulled into a pretty drive, and Kris got out, waiting expectently for Adam to follow.
"Okay," he stuttered.
And as Kris opened the door, Adam breathed a sigh of relief.