(no subject)
Title: Soft Revolution
Pairing: John/Adam
Rating: PG
Summary: Images lasting longer than two weeks and you needed to call a doctor.
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and mean no malicious intent with this story.
Warnings: No warnings.
Previous Part:
Part One
Part Two
There were a lot of things you weren't expecting in life. Being pseudo famous was one and imagining your strung out, junkie ex-boyfriend was another. But the thing you expected the least, at the very bottom of the list, was to see your strung out, junkie ex-boyfriend outside your apartment peephole, especially when the one that you were imagining was right behind you, whispering excitedly into your ear. "See? He comes to you. He loves you, you know. Just like I keep telling you."
"Shut up! You cannot both be here. You're a figment of my fucking imagination." You hissed at him before opening the door and seeing exactly what Adam looked like. Eddie hadn't been completely honest about how much weight Adam had lost recently. Everything jutted that much further out of his clothing and you bit your lip to keep from reaching out into the hallway and pulling him in.
It didn't matter because he walked in on his own and headed straight for the couch. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be here. I know we agreed not to talk to each other anymore. But I can't go anywhere else, Johnny, I tried walking and I've walked here eight times tonight and I didn't come in. I was trying to get home to Angel so he could put me to be. I was trying really hard not to be here. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Your voice was thick and the words seemed to creep out. It wasn't okay, it was the furthest that it could be from okay. Your Adam would be able to sit on that couch now, as soon as the real Adam left, he could curl up on that couch and never leave.
"No, I'm really sorry. I know. I know you do not want me here. But my feet wouldn't take me anywhere else." Adam curled up in the smallest corner of the couch. His body mass looked like it had been cut in half. There was no way a person as tall as Adam should have been able to compress himself like this. It was only then that you noticed how hard he was shaking. In your line of sight, he was a blur, vibrating against the sofa.
"Adam, it's really okay. I don't care." You tried to keep any emotion at all out of your voice. You didn't want him thinking you cared at all about his impromptu visit, because you didn't. When you stepped closer, you could smell vomit and sure enough, it was dribbled on the front of his shirt. "Hey, Adam, did you get sick tonight?"
He nodded, curling further into himself and closing his eyes. You had no idea what he could be trying to block out.
"We need to get you cleaned up, okay? Then I'll call Eddie or someone to get you. Is that alright with you?" You felt the strongest sense of déjà vu and knew you had already been in that situation. You did not want to count the number of times that you'd been in that sort of situation, with Adam strung out and needing to be cleaned up.
"Yeah. That should be okay." Adam nodded carefully, biting down on his lip and trying to stand up. You had to help him stay on his feet and on his way to the bathroom. "I'll do something for you after, when I'm not messy. I'm so sorry."
"You don't have to do anything, you know. It's fine. Really." You shook your head and guided him into the bathroom.
Adam walked ahead of you in the hall to the apartment, you could see every sway of his hips as he walked and knew that it was for you. He'd taken something at the bar that the two of you had been at earlier, but you didn't know what because you were too afraid to ask him. If he was fucked up on something serious, you knew that you didn't want to know what it was.
"Johnny, hurry, I want to shower with you." When he turned around, his pupils were dilated despite the bright light in the hallway. "Will you wash my hair? And make sure that all the shampoo comes out?" His voice had lost the twang that you loved about it. He sounded exactly like you and Jesse and every other Long Island asshole out there. Inside you cringed.
"Of course." Your own voice was slurred because of some high number of shots at the bar. Your world was starting to slur, all the colors bleeding into each other when you turned your head. You didn't always go to the bar and get fucked up, you remembered all of your twenty-first birthday. It was only since Adam started experimenting that you had decided that you liked shooting Bacardi 151.
"Johnny, you're so trashed right now. Like, I'm fucked up but you're trashed." Adam giggled to himself about the situation and opened the apartment door that he'd forgotten to lock. You followed him in and realized that he was shedding clothing on the way to the bathroom. When you turned around to lock the door behind yourself, you heard him calling out to you. "Johnny, I'm here. I'm in the bathroom."
When you got to the bathroom, after making a stop in the bedroom to remove your own clothing and toss it into the hamper, Adam was sitting on the floor of the shower/tub combination. The first thing you noticed was the trembling of his shoulders.
"Johnny, I'm dying in here. Everything is melting onto me and that's how I'm going to die." Adam's voice was small and bouncing off the bathroom tile. It was acid that he was on, you'd figured it out. "Help me?" He turned to look at you and again you saw his pupils.
"Adam, I'm going to run a bath, okay? It won't melt you and I'll climb in with you." You touched his shoulder, half expecting him to flinch away. He just nodded and held tightly to your hand, crushing the bones together.
Adam sat on the toilet tank while you ran the bath, watching you carefully, twitching every now and then. "Don't make it too hot. If you make it too hot, I get a rash now." You made a mental note to disinfect the tub after you sent him on his way to Eddie.
"He doesn't have a disease, John. He's just fucked up and he has no idea what he's saying." Your Adam's voice became as soft and southern as you'd ever heard Adam's voice. When you turned around, he was looking distressfully at Adam. His eyes traveled up and down Adam's body before turning to you. "Am I really that bad now? Do I really look like this?" His eyes paused on something that you couldn't see through his shirt. Turning to you, turning away from Adam, he spoke again. "He was with Fred tonight."
"How do you know?" You asked, forgetting that Adam who was hunched over his own knees couldn't hear Adam who was examining him closely.
Your Adam just shook his head and kept a hand over his mouth. "Get him to Eddie, John. Clean him up and get him to Eddie." You had somehow forgotten that Adam would love Eddie so much. "I'm only partly your imagination, John, I still know more than you know."
Bathing Adam turned out to be the easy part of the evening, managing to convince him that you didn't need to be blown was the difficult part.
"I don't mind, and I owe you. You took care of me tonight." Adam's hand was still trying to work on your belt. "Let me make you feel good tonight."
You shook your head more firmly than you thought was possible and guided him toward the guest bed. It was too late to call Eddie. There was Angel, but you knew he had work in the morning and it was getting to the hour that even he would ask if Adam could just crash on the couch.
"Adam, you don't owe me anything. I'm going to put you in the guest bed, okay? I'll bring the trash can over for you so you have something to throw up into." You pulled the trashcan beside the bed before pulling the covers over his shoulders. As you turned to leave, Adam touched your arm.
"Johnny? Thank you for being so nice to me. I know I don't deserve it." He was mumbling, so you patted the top of his head and left the room.
"Do I really look like that now?" Your Adam was on your bed, reflecting what you'd just seen in the other room. All of his hair was gone and his cheekbones stood out. You closed your eyes to try to change what he looked like
"Yeah." It was all you could say, you were too shaken by the appearance of Adam. "He won't be there when I wake up, will he?" When you opened them again, he was himself.
"No, he's already thinking about going to see Fred." Adam shook his head and curled under the blankets. "You don't mind me when I look like this, right? This is the way you like me to look?" He rolled and pressed himself into your side. It was the first time you could feel him warm against you. Your mental state left a lot to be desired.
Pairing: John/Adam
Rating: PG
Summary: Images lasting longer than two weeks and you needed to call a doctor.
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and mean no malicious intent with this story.
Warnings: No warnings.
Previous Part:
Part One
Part Two
There were a lot of things you weren't expecting in life. Being pseudo famous was one and imagining your strung out, junkie ex-boyfriend was another. But the thing you expected the least, at the very bottom of the list, was to see your strung out, junkie ex-boyfriend outside your apartment peephole, especially when the one that you were imagining was right behind you, whispering excitedly into your ear. "See? He comes to you. He loves you, you know. Just like I keep telling you."
"Shut up! You cannot both be here. You're a figment of my fucking imagination." You hissed at him before opening the door and seeing exactly what Adam looked like. Eddie hadn't been completely honest about how much weight Adam had lost recently. Everything jutted that much further out of his clothing and you bit your lip to keep from reaching out into the hallway and pulling him in.
It didn't matter because he walked in on his own and headed straight for the couch. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be here. I know we agreed not to talk to each other anymore. But I can't go anywhere else, Johnny, I tried walking and I've walked here eight times tonight and I didn't come in. I was trying to get home to Angel so he could put me to be. I was trying really hard not to be here. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Your voice was thick and the words seemed to creep out. It wasn't okay, it was the furthest that it could be from okay. Your Adam would be able to sit on that couch now, as soon as the real Adam left, he could curl up on that couch and never leave.
"No, I'm really sorry. I know. I know you do not want me here. But my feet wouldn't take me anywhere else." Adam curled up in the smallest corner of the couch. His body mass looked like it had been cut in half. There was no way a person as tall as Adam should have been able to compress himself like this. It was only then that you noticed how hard he was shaking. In your line of sight, he was a blur, vibrating against the sofa.
"Adam, it's really okay. I don't care." You tried to keep any emotion at all out of your voice. You didn't want him thinking you cared at all about his impromptu visit, because you didn't. When you stepped closer, you could smell vomit and sure enough, it was dribbled on the front of his shirt. "Hey, Adam, did you get sick tonight?"
He nodded, curling further into himself and closing his eyes. You had no idea what he could be trying to block out.
"We need to get you cleaned up, okay? Then I'll call Eddie or someone to get you. Is that alright with you?" You felt the strongest sense of déjà vu and knew you had already been in that situation. You did not want to count the number of times that you'd been in that sort of situation, with Adam strung out and needing to be cleaned up.
"Yeah. That should be okay." Adam nodded carefully, biting down on his lip and trying to stand up. You had to help him stay on his feet and on his way to the bathroom. "I'll do something for you after, when I'm not messy. I'm so sorry."
"You don't have to do anything, you know. It's fine. Really." You shook your head and guided him into the bathroom.
Adam walked ahead of you in the hall to the apartment, you could see every sway of his hips as he walked and knew that it was for you. He'd taken something at the bar that the two of you had been at earlier, but you didn't know what because you were too afraid to ask him. If he was fucked up on something serious, you knew that you didn't want to know what it was.
"Johnny, hurry, I want to shower with you." When he turned around, his pupils were dilated despite the bright light in the hallway. "Will you wash my hair? And make sure that all the shampoo comes out?" His voice had lost the twang that you loved about it. He sounded exactly like you and Jesse and every other Long Island asshole out there. Inside you cringed.
"Of course." Your own voice was slurred because of some high number of shots at the bar. Your world was starting to slur, all the colors bleeding into each other when you turned your head. You didn't always go to the bar and get fucked up, you remembered all of your twenty-first birthday. It was only since Adam started experimenting that you had decided that you liked shooting Bacardi 151.
"Johnny, you're so trashed right now. Like, I'm fucked up but you're trashed." Adam giggled to himself about the situation and opened the apartment door that he'd forgotten to lock. You followed him in and realized that he was shedding clothing on the way to the bathroom. When you turned around to lock the door behind yourself, you heard him calling out to you. "Johnny, I'm here. I'm in the bathroom."
When you got to the bathroom, after making a stop in the bedroom to remove your own clothing and toss it into the hamper, Adam was sitting on the floor of the shower/tub combination. The first thing you noticed was the trembling of his shoulders.
"Johnny, I'm dying in here. Everything is melting onto me and that's how I'm going to die." Adam's voice was small and bouncing off the bathroom tile. It was acid that he was on, you'd figured it out. "Help me?" He turned to look at you and again you saw his pupils.
"Adam, I'm going to run a bath, okay? It won't melt you and I'll climb in with you." You touched his shoulder, half expecting him to flinch away. He just nodded and held tightly to your hand, crushing the bones together.
Adam sat on the toilet tank while you ran the bath, watching you carefully, twitching every now and then. "Don't make it too hot. If you make it too hot, I get a rash now." You made a mental note to disinfect the tub after you sent him on his way to Eddie.
"He doesn't have a disease, John. He's just fucked up and he has no idea what he's saying." Your Adam's voice became as soft and southern as you'd ever heard Adam's voice. When you turned around, he was looking distressfully at Adam. His eyes traveled up and down Adam's body before turning to you. "Am I really that bad now? Do I really look like this?" His eyes paused on something that you couldn't see through his shirt. Turning to you, turning away from Adam, he spoke again. "He was with Fred tonight."
"How do you know?" You asked, forgetting that Adam who was hunched over his own knees couldn't hear Adam who was examining him closely.
Your Adam just shook his head and kept a hand over his mouth. "Get him to Eddie, John. Clean him up and get him to Eddie." You had somehow forgotten that Adam would love Eddie so much. "I'm only partly your imagination, John, I still know more than you know."
Bathing Adam turned out to be the easy part of the evening, managing to convince him that you didn't need to be blown was the difficult part.
"I don't mind, and I owe you. You took care of me tonight." Adam's hand was still trying to work on your belt. "Let me make you feel good tonight."
You shook your head more firmly than you thought was possible and guided him toward the guest bed. It was too late to call Eddie. There was Angel, but you knew he had work in the morning and it was getting to the hour that even he would ask if Adam could just crash on the couch.
"Adam, you don't owe me anything. I'm going to put you in the guest bed, okay? I'll bring the trash can over for you so you have something to throw up into." You pulled the trashcan beside the bed before pulling the covers over his shoulders. As you turned to leave, Adam touched your arm.
"Johnny? Thank you for being so nice to me. I know I don't deserve it." He was mumbling, so you patted the top of his head and left the room.
"Do I really look like that now?" Your Adam was on your bed, reflecting what you'd just seen in the other room. All of his hair was gone and his cheekbones stood out. You closed your eyes to try to change what he looked like
"Yeah." It was all you could say, you were too shaken by the appearance of Adam. "He won't be there when I wake up, will he?" When you opened them again, he was himself.
"No, he's already thinking about going to see Fred." Adam shook his head and curled under the blankets. "You don't mind me when I look like this, right? This is the way you like me to look?" He rolled and pressed himself into your side. It was the first time you could feel him warm against you. Your mental state left a lot to be desired.