fic: Resolution (part 4)
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It was the dreams that finally brought him, shaking and terrified, out of the pain-filled color-streaked haze that clung to him and blanketed his mind with fuzzy incomprehension. Allison was in them, but she was made out of fragile glass that shattered even as he reached to embrace her, to ask her if she was okay, the shards flying into his face, his arms, his chest and drawing blood that ran down his arms, stained his hands. And Kris-but when he opened his arms to him, he turned away, his abandoning voice echoing in his ears, “I’m sorry, Adam. I love Katy... I have to do this.”
And then there was his mother, looking at him with sadness, with grief and pain and horror and resignation, and saying, “Don’t do this, Adam. Please...” Her face shifted into that of an unidentifiable monster, who called him pathetic and told him that Allison was dead, and Kris was dead, and that it was all his fault, and told him, “It’s over.” Adam wanted to shout that it wasn’t over, how could it be over, because they’d only just begun, and there was so much more for them to do, but he couldn’t because there was a mask over his face and he couldn’t breathe right and he couldn’t scream-
He woke with a strangled sob that was swallowed by whatever it was over his mouth and nose that sucked his breath away, and he realized with a jolt of terror that he really couldn’t breathe... his lungs wheezed painfully as he coughed.
“Easy.” There was a gentle, calming hand on the back of his neck, and the voice was rough with fatigue and emotion. “Take a deep breath. Don’t fight it.”
That was the last thing he wanted to do, he wanted to fight and strain for air, but on some deep level he couldn’t even put into thoughts he trusted that voice, and he so he obeyed, relaxed his body, and let his trembling muscles sink into the softness around him. After a moment the machine took over and his lungs expanded and filled with air and contracted, and he could breathe again as long as he didn’t try taking a breath on his own. He vaguely realized that he’d been trapped in another hazy dream of drug-induced sleep.
That hand moved as if to stroke the back of his head, but it stilled in mid-motion and pulled away from his neck.
He shivered and idly raised his head, struggling to open his eyes and clear his vision, and his gaze fell on Kris, shoulders slumped and brown hair unruly on his head as it only ever was when he was too tired to care, sitting on the edge of the bed, and everything came rushing back at once. A red-hot wave of rage and pain so intense it made the spot behind his eyes ache swept over him. “What . . . are you . . . doing here?” he growled, but it took a lot more effort and sounded a lot more pathetic than he wanted it to, and he was left gasping for air again until he remembered the machine.
Kris looked sad and tired, and though he’d hotly deny it, that only served to make him hurt more. Pushing back the sympathy that rushed through him, he stared at Kris. Some part of him deep down inside wanted to cheer him up and chase that sadness from his eyes, the weariness from his face.
Adam clamped down on that part of himself, gritting his teeth. He was Adam Lambert, for fuck’s sake. Kris had betrayed him. Hurt him. Adam Lambert isn’t one to let things like that slide.
But his face...
He cursed the drug dosage that was wearing off slowly, for he didn’t want to feel anything any longer, nothing at all. Not the pain, not the sorrow.
“I’m looking after you,” Kris finally said, rubbing his forehead that way he did when he was getting a headache, and Adam wanted to massage his shoulders and coax him out of it with teasing jokes, the way he always had, until he remembered that Kris had told him he didn’t want to be around him like that anymore, and how that had hurt him, and that he probably shouldn’t care that the other man had a headache. No matter who that man had once been to him.
“Little late for that, don’t you think?” he rasped, and he noted the agony that twisted Kris’ face, the defeat in the way his shoulders slumped a little more at the question.
“It’s never too late, Adam,” he whispered brokenly.
This response unleashed a flood somewhere within Adam’s heart, like a dam splintering swiftly into a thousand pieces. “Never too late?” he half-choked, doubt seeping into his voice. Raw pain flitted across Kris’ features again at the hoarse reply.
The harsh interjection words had taken all of his strength, and Adam found that he was short of breath again, unable to bring any into his lungs. Kris’ caught and held him as he gasped, one weathered, guitar-calloused hand on his cheek, the fingers in his hair, holding his head still. He murmured soothingly, telling him to relax as he massaged the back of his neck, thumb tracing little circles on his cheekbone until Adam managed to force his body to relax and the respiratory aid caught up with him. Adam was confused by the lines of worry and pain in Kris’ face, and his gentleness.
“I don’t understand you,” he mumbled into the pillow beneath his head, voice wrought with frustration.
Kris took his hand away, and Adam hated the part of himself that missed it. “I know,” He said miserably. “I’m sorry, Adam. I know I was wrong. I don’t know how to fix it, but I know-I messed up.”
Adam felt a tiny urge to scream, as delirious, amplified emotion cascaded over him. You did mess up- you said you’d always be there for me and you weren’t, you hid your affection for me from Katy when I needed it, you punched me in the hallway of that arena, and you didn’t care about me-all you cared about was your wife and what she wanted and I was never good enough... I never measured up in worth, never competed with her-and . . . and all I wanted . . . was to be your friend . . . make you . . . care for me . . . . But in the end, I fucked up, too. I didn’t step back or help you and Katy have some space, some time to work out your problems, I was selfish and uncooperative, and sometimes a complete asshole to you.
He buried his head in the pillow and tried to ignore the tears leaking out of his eyes, pooling on the surface of the mask, making his bruised face sloppy and wet, and soaking into the fabric. He held his shoulders rigid to keep them from shivering and hoped that Kris might think he had fallen asleep and leave him alone.
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Kris felt as if his heart had been scraped raw and his emotions were bubbling next to the surface, ready to boil over with the slightest provocation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, he who prided himself on his laid-back, calm nature, and his control. He’d faced down countless stressful situations without so much as batting an eye, but now it felt as if one wrong word would turn him into a quivering heap of emotional goo. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down right there after Adam turned away from him, shutting him out as if a sturdy iron wall had slammed down between them.
He was finally leaving Adam’s room when Anoop and Megan found him. “Kris?” She said in that soft, unsure tone, as if she knew how he was feeling at that moment.
“Yeah?” He replied wearily, somehow managing to straighten his shoulders and look them steadily in the eye. Anoop was taller than him, which wasn’t hard, he admitted, but for some reason, meeting his eye contact was more difficult than usual. Kris decided it was because of the unrestrained worry and emotion swirling in Anoop’s large brown eyes.
“We were just wondering...if you, uh, wanted to talk about this.” he said.
Kris knew he stiffened at that, even though he knew he had to eventually. “Okay,” He said, and his tone was short and cautious. But he had to know something before he did this “Did you guys just go see Allie?” he asked.
Megan looked ready to burst from excitement for a moment. “Yeah, oh, Kris! She’s doing so much better... she’s even got a little of that sparkle in her eyes... color to her cheeks, and she smiled!”
He was visibly relieved. “I’m glad to hear that.” After his latest encounter with Adam, he needed some good news.
Anoop’s jaw relaxed just slightly, and his shoulders straightened in obvious happiness as he grinned as well. “She did look pretty good, considering everything.” he said.
“I always knew that girl was tough,” Kris replied as mildly as he could and took up a position leaning against the wall. “What exactly do you all want to know?”
Anoop crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward in a thoughtful stance. Kris sighed silently and readied himself for whatever would come.
“We were sort of wondering... do you have any idea what happened to cause the bus to crash?” he asked gently. “I mean it’s not important that we know right away, there’s other stuff to worry about... but we got curious watching the news report about it, and you were closer to the driver’s cabin before it happened... you went up there, what did you see? If what Allison keeps saying is true, there was a lot of terrifying things that happened really fast, and the roof started to cave in, which made the dashboard catch fire-”
“Yeah, that seems to be what happened.” Even Kris was surprised by how calmly he answered. “I heard some yelling... like maybe-” A wince of pain. “Maybe Christian sensed it coming and tried to stop it, and I think Adam shouted something...” He racked his brains, trying to remember.
Anoop and Megan watched him attentively, obviously hanging on his every word.
“I think it was the brakes-” He took a deep, shaking breath “-it looked like the brakes stopped working for some reason, and we skidded into the tunnel... at first just side-swiping it... maybe Christian tried to steady it, but then the walls started to collapse and we went into the other side head-on.” It was definitely a plausible guess.
Anoop looked to be considering the scenario, but Megan had a faraway look in her eyes. “Kris,” she said slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What happened between you and Adam? We all know something’s up... and I understand personal boundaries and everything, but we’re really worried... about both of you.”
Kris looked away. “It’s- it’s stupid. I was stupid. And I hurt him.” The memory of Adam’s accusing eyes came to mind and he swallowed hard. “I made a terrible mistake. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I messed up... and now I just want to fix it.” Tears had sprung into his eyes and he stared at the white floor tiles, speckled with gray.
“He is your friend.” Anoop stated comfortingly. “Kris, that man is almost like a Siamese twin to you... I used to swear you were attached somehow. Don’t worry; it’ll all work out, even if it seems bad now.”
Kris flinched, pain blossoming within his heart. “I hope you’re right,” He replied, smiling haltingly.
Anoop raised his eyebrows. “Of course I’m right, I’m always right.”
“Yeah,” Megan chimed in, putting a hand on his arm. “You two are too damned close to not fix this - whatever this is.”
Kris wasn’t entirely convinced by their logic, but it shut him up for a moment, and as he considered their words, they stood their, staring with concerned gazes.
He wasn’t going to pretend to be fine, but didn’t break down in wracking sobs as he really was tempted to.
After they each hugged him; assuring, and walked away, their statements echoed through his head, and he shuddered.
Was Anoop right? Would the mere fact that their friendship had been so strong help to alleviate whatever poison was still leeching at their bond?
“What’s troubling you, Kris?” It was a kind, soft, feminine voice. His eyes flew open and he straightened up to see Katy standing beside him again, holding a steaming paper cup in her outstretched hand. “Coffee?” She offered, and it was then he noticed the dark circles around her eyes.
He accepted the drink and took a quiet sip, not answering at first. “How’s Adam doing?” She asked carefully, finger tracing the rim of her own cup as he spoke, her eyes looking at him sideways.
“Not so good,” He told her in a breath, grimacing.
She used her free hand to squeeze his. “He’ll get better. It just takes time.”
He sniffed back the tears that had been all too close to the surface. “How-how-?” He stammered, realizing he sounded like a scared, confused child.
“Oh, honey. That just the way it works,” Katy said soothingly. “Listen, Kris. You are a good man, and a good friend to Adam. And I know he’s the same, and a good friend to you. He’s here, and he’s safe. You simply need to have a little faith in his strength - and in yours, and he’ll be fine.”
“But Katy, I-what if he won’t forgive me, what if-” Kris couldn’t bring himself to speak the words that would complete the sentence, but she seemed to understand what he’d been about to say.
She smiled sadly. “Are we thinking of the same Adam here? It seems to me the Adam we both know wouldn’t go down without one heck of a fight.”
“Yeah, that and some flames,” Kris managed to chuckle in reply, and then smiled. “And glitter. Lots of glitter.”
She reached out, pulling his shoulder toward her and embracing him with one arm. The small pressure was comforting and welcome, and he leaned into it gratefully. “Katy,” he said softly.
“I missed you,” She whispered into his worn shirt. He suddenly realized that in their times of awkward conversation, fights, and when he’d been away on tour - he’d ached for her horribly as well.
“I know, I missed us,” he replied throatily, and held her a little closer.
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There was someone else in the room with him. They had slightly increased the dosage of the drugs they were pumping into his system, so Adam wasn’t clear on who it was, but he could feel the presence even through the fuzziness blanketing everything, suppressing his awareness of his surroundings. He didn’t think it was Kris. This someone felt different as a presence, but trying to discern how made his head ache, and trying to emerge from the hazy realm he was entrenched in made all his thoughts become jumbled and skitter to all corners of his perception so he gave up on it.
The presence brought him out of a dull, drugged sleep, and Adam wondered hazily if the other person was going to bother to do anything. Nothing seemed quite real at the moment, and he didn’t mind that. If nothing was real, than he didn’t have anything to struggle against or hold onto.
“Lambert,” came a vaguely familiar voice, and Adam’s eyes fluttered slowly open at the sound of it, for he suddenly felt the urgent need to connect that voice to a body. A tall figure dressed swam in front of him, and he blinked tiredly to clear his vision. It didn’t work that well, but he could see well enough to tell that Michael Sarver was standing beside his bed. “I hear you’re called Glambert a lot these days.” Was the next statement.
He tried to speak but his mouth was dry and his tongue felt too thick. “I-” he started, uncertain of what to say and unsure why Michael was there. He didn’t have the strength to force out another word.
“And I saw that Rolling Stone cover you did,” came Michael’s voice, abruptly turning cold. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? You’re the star of the season, who shattered all expectations, who single-handedly saved the show.” There was anger, jealousy and dislike carved in Michael’s tone. A strong hand seized his chin in a less than gentle grip and dragged his head up so that the fire of his gaze could bore directly into Adam’s eyes. Michael’s fingers weren’t soft and comforting as Kris’ had felt, and Adam stiffened, instinctively struggling to draw away from his unwelcome guest. “But really, you’re just a queer.” The angry voice continued. “And look at you now... so pathetic, and so damn drugged you can’t even see straight.”
He let go then, and Adam felt a wave of relief as his head dropped back down to the pillow. Normally he would have taken offense to Michael’s words, dared Michael to call him a faggot, demanded to know what sort of hardships Michael had faced in his life and from society, what battles he had fought, physically or otherwise, but now he felt too tired, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel fury at the statements. “Wha-” he struggled to question through his parched lips. “What do . . . you . . . want . . .?”
“I want to know if you had anything to do with that crash,” Michael cried, his voice breaking, and there was pain behind it. “My daughter was in tears, screaming, thinking I wasn’t ever coming back to her! Even after my wife tried to explain that I was okay... she wouldn’t even stop crying at the sound of my voice. My baby... my little girl is traumatized, and we’re lucky no one died... and you... if you had something to do with this... with Christian crashing- any of it... I need to know.”
Even dazed, Adam didn’t like what he was hearing. He heard the unspoken implications behind it, and what Michael was trying to say about him being up in the front of the bus with Christian, who had also been very openly gay. “I-” he began again, but his voice got stuck in his throat. “I didn’t...”
A hand brushed idly down over the bandages on his shoulder, but not in the gentle way the nurse or Kris had touched him. Adam couldn’t restrain a startled cry. Pain jabbed through his body, playing up and down his back, and tears started in his eyes at the unrelenting sharpness like a thousand tiny needles stabbing into his flesh. He struggled to move away, but his body wouldn’t obey.
“Did Kris’ wife tell you to back off?” Michael was asking, brutally and uncaringly. Adam winced, knowing that Sarver had never liked him, more like detested him and his chosen lifestyle, but this - why was he doing this? “Why is he still hanging around your bedside then? What is wrong with him?”
Adam was bombarded then with an unclear memory - gentle arms pulling him up, out of the smoky haze... cool, soothing words whispered in his ear and the feeling of safety encircling him. Had that been Kris?
Why was he apologizing and spending so much time around him? Adam didn’t understand. He remembered fights, a punch, tears, hurting-
Michael leaned closer, bracing his hands on the pillow on either side of Adam’s head, and he was frightened out of his confused thoughts. The part of him long abandoned: the small, scared, insecure young boy heralded as the weird kid at school registered that looming presence and he was that boy again, being harassed behind the bleachers for some ridiculous imagined offense. He jerked away, his breath speeding up, coming too fast - and he was left choking and suffocating, his chest heaving uselessly as he struggled and the machine meant to aid him stole his shallow breaths from his weak lungs.
“And Allison,” Michael said in a scathing, contemplative tone. He was watching Adam gasp and fight for air as if it were an only moderately interesting show on TV, and Adam felt a surge of white-hot anger at this. It should have given him unnatural strength and adrenaline, but his head was blank and cloudy and he could barely lift it from the pillow. “She’s in critical condition. Maybe even dying. The doctors don’t know what to do. Did you know that?” He continued, sounding more sickening to Adam with each word.
Something in him broke. He remembered his hands closing around her arms, his fear, her screaming, a shove, a tumble, and Kris’ muffled voice screaming her name, then crumbling and fire and darkness-and how could that be true? How could she be hurt so badly? When he’d done everything he could in the rush of the moment for her, to save her?
What was so terribly wrong with him that no one he loved ever stayed with him, and always left him somehow or another?
“N-no,” he whispered finally. Kris had told him that she was fine, hadn’t he? Kris wouldn’t have lied about that. And he had pushed her out! She was safe, she was okay, she had to be, she had to-his thoughts ran together in a jumbled mess, feeling irrational and misplaced in Michael’s angry presence, and he was lost. “No...!” he cried, and tears came to his eyes and even as drugged and weak as he was, he shoved an arm fitfully into Michael’s torso, and the other man staggered back.
But he was too tired, and all the feeling drained out of him. He was left shattered and defeated, his breath sobbing in his throat as terror and guilt shook his whole body. “No,” he moaned. “That can’t be true... I saved her.”
Michael took a step forward, all too close to him again. “You failed her,” he hissed, and Adam’s pain and drug-induced brain took the lie and fed it as reality.
And even though Adam struggled with every fiber of strength he had left, he couldn’t escape from that either.
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Kris pulled open the door to Allie’s room and stepped inside, glad to see her sitting up, dressed in the white robe all the patients wore and looking more alert, though rather distressed.
“Kris, I want to know what’s going on,” she said as he walked to her side. “No one’s told me much of anything since we got here. Where’s Adam? How is he? What’s going on? What’s happening with the-” a flash of worry tightened her pale features “-the tour? And the media?”
“Hang on,” Kris told her with a tiny smile as he sat down in the chair pushed up beside the bed. “One question at a time.”
She waited until he was seated, then said, “I want to know, now, Kris.” And he knew better than to argue with the look on her face, set and determined.
“All right,” He said. “All right. Since late yesterday evening the story the press has taken up has shifted from vague details of a crash to them speculating that I’m seriously injured because of their knowledge of Katy staying here.” Kris could feel his voice slur a bit with fatigue, and he cursed his lack of sleep.
She studied his face closely. “But you’re okay, right?” she said, and he hesitated, but was forced to nod. “And the others?” she asked.
“Mostly okay. Released, but not really going anywhere since we can’t without you,” He said, and Allie bit her lip. “The tour?” She asked.
Kris sent her a rueful smile. “Stops postponed for now. They’re hoping you’re released soon so we can move out of the hospital and spotlight and slowly slip back into the normal schedule.”
“I’m feeling a lot better,” She said with a bit of a smile, but he saw traces of her tired, pained expression from before hidden deep in her eyes.
Kris smiled back. “Good.” Her smile faded, and Kris knew she hadn’t forgotten her other question. “How’s Adam?” He paused. “Tell me, Kris,” she ordered.
He looked down. “He’s in the- in intensive care. I-haven’t been to see him in a few hours- Katy made me stay away and get some rest... some fresh air - but I’ve been in there with him several times and he’s...” Kris was stumbling over his words, and she reached out and touched his hand.
“I know, Kris,” she said. “I know. Is there-” she stopped, her face drawing tight and pale, and I knew what she was trying to ask.
“He’s . . . confused,” He said, uncertain. “Angry with me. But-”
“You can’t give up on him, though,” she said, her voice urgent. “He’ll forgive you... you guys will work through this, I know you will.”
“Allie,” He said hopelessly, “He said I hated him. He thinks I don’t care.”
Her gaze was fearless, and her eyes held his, fiery with passion. “He was hurt and afraid. I know him, and he loves you. It’ll work out, I just know it.”
Again, the brother-sister bond between them awed Kris. “I wish I had your faith,” He murmured softly.
She smiled. “You do, Kris. You saved him, after all. You’re the most hopeful of all of us. You just haven’t figured that out yet.”
He grinned back a bit. “Well, thanks for the little push in the right direction, in that case.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but then her face twisted into a yawn. She brought her hand to her face in a slow, tired motion and gave a low sigh.
“Allie?” Kris blurted, leaning over her. “You need a nap.”
“Maybe,” she smiled, leaning back into her pillows and giving a tiny intake of breath, her eyes drooping. “Give Adam my love-” her hands pulled the sheet up to her midsection and he settled into the bed. “Tell him to quit screwing around and get better already.”
He squeezed her hand. “Okay-”
“He needs you, Kris,” she told him. “More than he wants to admit right now.”
“And I need him.” He replied resolutely.
“I’m fine...” she assured him. “I’ll just get some more rest. Go to Adam, and I’ll be fine-”
“All right. Pleasant dreams.” He said blankly.
“Bye...” she whispered and he rose slowly, heading for the door.
“I’m going to see Adam now... she’s resting.” He told Katy, who was seated in one of the chairs outside, and she nodded, pursing her lips and bobbing her head vigorously.
He was hit by a wave of wrongness and the odd sensation intensified as he walked down the corridor to reach his room. As he got closer, he felt more and more unnerved- but had no idea why, and it scared him. He quickened his pace, and by the time he made it to Adam’s room, he was hustling in stride, and he wrenched the door open, bursting inside. It took him a moment to orient himself, and for one terrible second he couldn’t find Adam on the bed and thought he was gone.
But then his eyes focused on the limp body on the floor, and he realized that he had tumbled off the bed. Adam’s good arm was bleeding a little from where the IVs had been wrenched from it, and his face, pressed against the cold, unyielding tile floor, was messy and wet with tears. The breath mask had been torn off his face and his breath was coming short and fast, literally groaning in his chest. He was curled up, the blanket unevenly tangled over him, and his body shaking almost convulsively.
Kris threw himself to his knees at his side and gathered him up as gently as he could, careful not to touch anywhere near the bandages and with strength he wasn’t aware he possessed, he scooped Adam’s fragile yet heavy frame up off the floor and eased him, with effort, onto the bed. Adam gave a tiny, exhausted sob and grabbed hold of Kris’ shirt with one hand, making Kris stop in mid-motion, paralyzed by shock. Adam’s desperate face met his squarely for the first time in awhile and he asked, voice wavering, “Y-you didn’ t lie, Kris, d-did you?” Kris, utterly at a loss, pressed the alert button on the bed to call in the nurse and rested Adam’s head against his shoulder.
“What is it, Adam?” He asked desperately, wanting to soothe him. “What’s wrong?”
“A-Allie-she’s not . . . dying, is she?” His voice was slurred and choppy from the drugs, but the pain in them was clear as day. “Tell me th’ truth, K-Kris, please. I saved her... r-right? I must have.”
“She’s fine, Adam,” He answered, baffled. Why would this unreasonable fear have hit him just now? “She’s fine. I told you already. She’s more worried about you than anything else.”
He gave a choked moan. “You’re not l-lying?”
“Of course not,” Kris replied solidly. He smiled reassuringly down at him. “I’d never lie to you about something like that.”
“I had to h-help her,” he mumbled, tears still flowing, but more calmly now, and his panic began to fade. “She would’ve been hurt bad . . . almost was. She was screaming and I . . . I couldn’t let t-that happen.”
Kris felt his throat close up and bent his head closer to Adam’s, hating the fear he saw on his face. “She’s going to be all right. She’s very tired, but she got a concussion, so fatigue is understandable. The rest is just bruises and scrapes, really.”
Adam’s muscles were unclenching and his fingers were easing up in their death grip on his shirt. “She’s all right...” he whispered to himself, as if reiterating the fact to make it more real.
“Fine. She’s fine.” Kris repeated, grateful when Stephanie appeared in the doorway, face flashing in concern.
Adam rolled his face into Kris’ shoulder. “Everyone l-lies to me...” He muttered strangely.
“I’m not lying to you, Adam,” Kris said, perplexed by the statement, but aching for his friend at the same time.
His eyes lifted, stormy. “O-okay. I-I trust you, Kris.”
His eyes filled, and Kris could feel a single tear run down his cheek at the sheer wonder of Adam saying those words to him again. He just lay there in his arms, shaking, as Stephanie approached and inserted a new IV, and Kris let him stay there, explaining what he could to the nurse so she could write it in the file while she gently refitted the respiratory machine’s mask over Adam’s face.
After Stephanie was sure he was ok, she departed to check on Allie, and Kris sighed, shifting his weight so his friend could lean against his arm as he perched quietly on the edge of his mattress. Adam’s hand tightened into a weak fist in the fabric of his sleeve, and he pleaded, quietly, his voice like a tiny wisp of sound in Kris’ waiting ear, “S-stay.”
And he did.
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*cheers* The first steps toward Kradam acting like buddies?
Sorry about that asshole Sarver though. Would you believe me if i said parts 5 and 6 are already written? :O