Hope That Nothing Happens
Hope That Nothing Happens
Author: private____ryan
Pairing:Adam Lazzara/Jesse Lacey
Word Count: 373
Disclaimer: No harm, no foul.
Notes: I haven't written anything, as you can see in my poor, neglected journal, in over a year. This is incredibly short and may evolve into something else, but at the moment I'm just pleased that I managed to sit down long enough to put anything together at all.
No one ever asks whether he fell or jumped.
Jesse wonders why sometimes, why the question in the eyes of all the people who put two and two together and place him there, in that moment, in that room never makes it out of their mouths. He's been a marked man since the morning after, like the hours he spent in concrete rooms downtown left a tangible sign of his connection to Adam printed all over his skin.
No one ever asks if he fell or if he jumped. Like there was any possibility that Adam would have let that kind of accident happen. And no one ever asks how they decided so fast that it was all an accident. Like Adam leaned just a little too far to the left, like he went to find purchase on the railing and just kind of overshot the distance, like he sat there and rocked and didn't notice that the ground was so far down. Because they didn't know him, they can content themselves with the ideas that other people have fed them.
What happened to him is a story by the end of the week, on the way to becoming just another urban legend the moment that the ban on entering the clock tower's courtyard is lifted. No one understands how long it took to clean his blood off of the stone.
Jesse doesn't either, but that wasn't his fault; by the time he came back, they'd already taken down the caution tape. He's heard from other people, from the word that went around, that there were a couple of tense days in there where no one really believed that they'd get it all wiped up. When he thinks about it, he wonders if that's normal. Adam's blood, released from Adam's body, could have some bizarre property that no one would ever pinpoint. He thinks about it, and he remembers the yellow stains of nicotine seeping out of Adam's cuticles. It stirs something in him to realize that deep down, all the way under Adam's skin, past the parts of him that couldn't find the railing and way below his momentary blindness, there was a piece of him that couldn't stop itself from holding on.
Author: private____ryan
Pairing:Adam Lazzara/Jesse Lacey
Word Count: 373
Disclaimer: No harm, no foul.
Notes: I haven't written anything, as you can see in my poor, neglected journal, in over a year. This is incredibly short and may evolve into something else, but at the moment I'm just pleased that I managed to sit down long enough to put anything together at all.
No one ever asks whether he fell or jumped.
Jesse wonders why sometimes, why the question in the eyes of all the people who put two and two together and place him there, in that moment, in that room never makes it out of their mouths. He's been a marked man since the morning after, like the hours he spent in concrete rooms downtown left a tangible sign of his connection to Adam printed all over his skin.
No one ever asks if he fell or if he jumped. Like there was any possibility that Adam would have let that kind of accident happen. And no one ever asks how they decided so fast that it was all an accident. Like Adam leaned just a little too far to the left, like he went to find purchase on the railing and just kind of overshot the distance, like he sat there and rocked and didn't notice that the ground was so far down. Because they didn't know him, they can content themselves with the ideas that other people have fed them.
What happened to him is a story by the end of the week, on the way to becoming just another urban legend the moment that the ban on entering the clock tower's courtyard is lifted. No one understands how long it took to clean his blood off of the stone.
Jesse doesn't either, but that wasn't his fault; by the time he came back, they'd already taken down the caution tape. He's heard from other people, from the word that went around, that there were a couple of tense days in there where no one really believed that they'd get it all wiped up. When he thinks about it, he wonders if that's normal. Adam's blood, released from Adam's body, could have some bizarre property that no one would ever pinpoint. He thinks about it, and he remembers the yellow stains of nicotine seeping out of Adam's cuticles. It stirs something in him to realize that deep down, all the way under Adam's skin, past the parts of him that couldn't find the railing and way below his momentary blindness, there was a piece of him that couldn't stop itself from holding on.