Glamverse fic: Monster Within [Adam/Tommy] Chapter 3

[toobusy2write]

[Chapter 2]
[Master Post]

Chapter 3

Standing at his bedroom window, Adam growled softly as he watched Tommy walk up the driveway. Adam had hoped it had been an empty threat when Tommy had said he was going to come back today. Goddammit. Adam had given him answers. What more did he want?

Looking down, Adam recognized the acoustic guitar case in Tommy's hand. He'd seen him leaving his apartment with it a few times in the past. What he didn't understand was why Tommy had brought it with him tonight.

When Tommy reached the porch, Adam suddenly remembered what else Tommy had threatened. He'd said if the door was locked he'd bust a window to get in. Not willing to take the gamble that it was an idle threat, Adam raced from his room on the third floor down to the front door, easily making it by the time Tommy reached the top step of the porch.

Adam waited, hovering just out of sight by one of the windows facing the porch, wrestling with whether to unlock the door or not. On the one hand, it would set a dangerous precedent if he caved to Tommy's threats a second time. It would send the message that he wasn't something to be scared of, that he wasn't the dangerous monster he looked to be. On the other, he was curious as hell to know why Tommy had not only come back after the way Adam had kicked him out the day before, but why he'd brought his acoustic guitar with him.

Standing there in indecision, Adam listened to Tommy walk from the steps to the door. After a short pause, there was a knock, which Adam didn't answer.

"I'm back," Tommy called after a moment. "Like I said I would be."

Tommy knocked again, and again Adam didn't answer.

He heard a sigh from the other side of the door, and then Tommy said, "Okay, well, I'm pretty sure you're in there, so … here goes."

Adam took a step toward the window, expecting to see Tommy step in front of it at any second, ready to smash it. Maybe that was what the guitar was for. Only, Tommy was a guitarist, and all the guitarists Adam had known before the curse would have sooner given up their place to live and taken to the streets than let anything happen to one of their guitars.

Instead of heading for the window, though, Tommy started in the other direction. Bemused, Adam watched through the sheer curtain covering the window as Tommy crossed to the railing next to the steps and sat down with his back to it, facing the house. Adam frowned as Tommy opened the guitar case and pulled the guitar out. Setting it in his lap, Tommy dug in his pocket, pulled out a pick, and started tuning the guitar.

Taken completely off guard, Adam took another step toward the window. He hadn't heard the sound of anyone picking at strings to tune a guitar in over thirty years. Not since… Not since before. A wave of memories rushed over him.

Once he was through tuning the guitar, Tommy mumbled, "Here goes nothing," and started playing.

Adam recognized the song immediately as Johnny Cash's version of Hurt. Something inside him uncoiled as Tommy's fingers moved over the frets and picked at the strings. He didn't sing, just played, but it was so good, it almost didn't need the words. Tommy made the notes sing all on their own. And standing there, hearing live music for the first time in what felt like forever… It sucked Adam in and before he knew it, he was at the window, pushing the curtain aside and staring out.

The song ended and Tommy looked up, freezing when their eyes met. It took a moment for Adam to figure out why Tommy looked so startled. At some point during the song, Adam's demon had retreated. He knew from experience that meant that he looked human just then, even though it was just an illusion. He wasn't human. He hadn't been for a long time. He only ever wore what he thought of as his human mask when he had to go out in public. He didn't deserve to wear it any other time. Not since…

Not for a long time.

Angry at himself for letting down his guard, even just for a song, and angry at Tommy for making it possible, Adam's demon side surged to the forefront-fingers once again turning into claws, teeth lengthening and sharpening, black veins creeping across his pale, freckled skin-and roared at Tommy in warning. The window shook in its pane from the force of it, but all Tommy did was calmly stand up, holding Adam's gaze.

"If you think that's gonna scare me off, think again," Tommy said, expression determined.

"Go away!" Adam growled, fist clenching at the curtain in one hand. He could hear ripping and guessed he was slicing holes in the sheer material.

Tommy stepped forward and stared hard at Adam for a long moment, as if searching for something in his gaze. Eventually, he stepped back again and said, "I'll go, but I'll be back tomorrow."



True to his word, Tommy was back the next night. And the next. And the next several after that. About four days in, Adam gave up the pretense of watching from his upstairs window and instead took to waiting by the foyer window as Tommy walked up the path, always holding his guitar case. Adam hated to admit it, but at some point he'd stopped being angered by Tommy's visits and had started looking forward to them.

As he watched Tommy walk up the driveway yet again, he impulsively unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Turning away, he climbed the stairs and sat down at the top of them, out of sight. He listened as Tommy climbed the steps like usual and crossed to the door, also as usual. Instead of the usual knock, though, there was a long pause, and then the drawn out creak of the door slowly opening. More footsteps followed and the door clicked shut.

"Hello?" Tommy called.

Adam clenched his jaw, hoping Tommy took the silence and his absence as a hint and just sat and played instead of trying to find him and talk to him like before. Thankfully, Tommy did and a moment later, there was rustling, like someone sitting down, and then the familiar snick of the latches on Tommy's guitar case echoed through the foyer and stairwell.

Clearing his throat, Tommy said, "Okay, so this one's a little different, but… I dunno. I guess I thought it might sorta, you know, fit you somehow?" There was a short pause, and then Tommy sighed. "Fuck it. I was looking for stuff to play for you and this popped up on YouTube and it just… It felt like you. Not that I like, know you. At all."

As the first few notes filled the air, Adam's forehead crinkled in confusion. It sounded familiar, but not. Finally, he placed it, forehead smoothing out, even as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. He'd only ever heard the song played much faster and on synth. He never would have thought to set it to acoustic guitar, let alone slow it down. It had the effect of turning it from something manic and strange into something slow and haunting. Wanting to hear it without the echoes caused by the stairwell, Adam quietly got to his feet and descended the stairs. He stopped near the bottom and sat on the fourth step up, facing Tommy, who was sitting on the foyer floor, back to the door.

Tommy looked up and their eyes locked for a second before Adam closed his, trying to pick the lyrics out of his memory. The words had spoken to him back when Tears for Fears had released it, but the music had never quite captured him. As he began to silently put lyrics to the melody, though, he found that Tommy's version made everything click.

Without even really realizing he was doing it at first, Adam started singing softly, "And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had…"

They continued on together, Tommy playing and Adam singing, until the last notes of the song finally faded away, leaving them sitting in silence.

After a moment, Tommy said reverently, "Holy shit, dude. Your voice is, like… Holy shit."

Adam opened his eyes and focused on the wonder written across Tommy's face. Unsettled by it, and by the fact that he'd sung after so long denying himself, he chose to ignore Tommy's compliment, instead saying, "You're amazing on guitar. And that song… I never heard it played that way, or on guitar at all."

Tommy shrugged, head ducking a little and gaze cutting away as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I can't take credit. There's this version on YouTube by Gary Jules that I found. All slow and hurty, and just… Yeah. His version's on piano, but it wasn't difficult to, like, translate that to guitar."

Adam stared hard at him, waiting until Tommy's gaze lifted and met his again. "I've been around plenty of guitarists in my time. It takes talent to translate music from one form to another, let alone make it work so well."

Tommy looked pleased and embarrassed in turns and Adam found himself wanting to walk over and pull him to his feet, pull him into his arms and kiss him soundly. Even though the thought wasn't a new one, the urge was so strong that it startled Adam and he started to stand, needing to get out of there before he did something stupid. Something dangerous.

Immediately, Tommy set aside his guitar and jumped to his feet. "No, wait. Please."

Adam hesitated, but settled back down on the steps, waiting to see what Tommy wanted.

Tommy hesitated for a second, then crossed to the stairs, stopping in front of Adam. Between how short Tommy was and how high up the steps Adam was sitting, they were almost eye level. Reaching out, Tommy traced his fingers over Adam's cheek. Adam clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to jerk away, to tell Tommy not to touch his ugliness, until he realized he'd inadvertently allowed his human mask to the forefront again.

"How do you do that?" Tommy asked quietly. "Change. Right now you look…"

"I look what?" Adam asked, a little breathlessly, Tommy's touch making him want things he couldn't have. Things he had no business wanting.

"You look human," Tommy admitted, almost apologetically. Searching Adam's gaze, Tommy asked, "Which one's the mask?"

"The human side," Adam said automatically.

Tommy frowned. "Then why is it that it comes out when I play?"

Adam scowled and pushed to his feet, towering over Tommy from where he stood on the bottom step. "It's time for you to go."

He turned and headed upstairs, but Tommy grabbed his wrist before he'd made it two steps, stopping him.

"Wait," Tommy said.

Adam's demon roared to life. Before he could rein it in, he'd jerked free of Tommy's hold, grabbed him around the neck, propelled him across the foyer and pinned him against the front door, snarling in his face.

Eyes huge, Tommy went still in Adam's hold. He didn't even breathe, even though Adam wasn't squeezing.

With effort, Adam took a deep breath and calmed himself. Dropping his hand, he said, "It's not a good idea to take me by surprise. I can't always control this … thing inside me."

Tommy lifted his hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. "Sorry."

Adam turned and paced away, growling. When he turned back, Tommy was still in the same position, back against the door and hands palms out.

"Why do you keep coming back?"

Tommy dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. "I don't know. I just… I can't get you out of my head. I keep thinking about you stuck here all alone, cut off from everyone and … I can't stay away."

Adam crossed to one of the windows on the other side of the foyer and stared out at the moonlit yard. Even though he didn't understand how or why Tommy wanted to be anywhere near him after seeing his demon side, it appeared they felt the same pull, a fact that only made it more dangerous for them to be around each other. At least when it had only been one sided, when it had just been Adam needing to be near Tommy, it had been safe for Tommy. Now…

"Don't," Adam bit out. "Don't think about me. Don't worry about me, or feel sympathy for me, or whatever it is you're feeling. I don't deserve it."

"Why?" Tommy asked, sounding baffled.

Adam whipped around to face Tommy again, anger at the situation and fear for Tommy surging to the forefront. Trying to scare Tommy to hopefully get the point across, Adam crossed the room and crowded Tommy's space, saying in a hard voice, "Because I killed two of my lovers." Lips twisting up in a cruel smile, Adam lifted a claw-tipped finger and ran it down along the side of Tommy's neck, digging in just a little. "Wanna be the third?"

Tommy's swallow would have been audible, even if Adam hadn't had superior hearing, so it took Adam off guard when Tommy said, "You're a complete asshole, you know that?" instead of running for his life the instant Adam dropped his hand and backed away.

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I just wanted to help somehow. Thought maybe you could use a friend or something. I know the guitar wasn't much, but with the whole," he paused and gestured at his face with a hand, then continued, "human thing coming out when I played, I figured that maybe it did help. I guess not."

He pushed off the door, grabbed up his guitar and case, and without stopping to put the guitar back inside, yanked the front door open, stomped out, and slammed it shut behind him.

Adam wrestled with the insane urge to go after Tommy, to apologize and ask him to come back tomorrow night, but in the end, he just stood there staring at the closed door for a long time after Tommy left, telling himself it was better this way. Safer. Adam might have hurt his feelings, but hurt feelings were better than ending up dead.



Tommy was still fuming three days later. Not constantly, just whenever he thought about Adam, which, if he was honest with himself, was about every other minute since he met the bastard.

He still didn't know what exactly Adam was. Adam said he was a demon, but there was more to it than that, Tommy was almost sure. Adam had also said his human side was just an illusion, but Tommy was pretty sure there was more to that, too.

Tommy came to that conclusion on the fourth day after their fight, when he finally calmed down and considered the whole thing objectively. And objectively, Tommy had to admit that no matter that Adam had gone out of his way to be cruel to Tommy, to drive him off, there had been an underlying fear in his eyes.

Fear for Tommy, not himself.

Adam had been trying to warn him away. Tommy was sure of it. And if he was doing that, it meant he gave a damn, and if he gave a damn, there had to be some scrap of humanity in him still, right?

Right. Which was why Tommy was currently headed back to the mansion after five days away, guitar in hand once again.

Marching straight up the stairs of the porch, Tommy knocked on the door. When there was no answer as usual, Tommy tried the doorknob. He'd fully expected it to be locked, but it wasn't. Stepping inside, Tommy looked around, but there was no trace of Adam. If he was there somewhere, he was hiding in the shadows.

"Adam?" Tommy asked, setting his guitar down against the wall next to the door.

No answer.

"Adam!" Tommy called louder.

Still no answer.

Refusing to be ignored, Tommy started for the stairs, deciding the best place to look first would be Adam's bedroom. He climbed the two flights to the third floor, then crossed the hall to Adam's room.

Hesitating with his hand on the knob, Tommy knocked once more and said, "I'm coming in."

No response, not that Tommy had really expected one.

Opening the door, he stepped inside and glanced around, finding Adam standing in front of the window with his back to Tommy.

"Why won't you just stay the fuck away?" Adam asked, sounding weary.

"Because you haven't given me a good enough reason to," Tommy said stubbornly.

Adam turned slowly, face in shadows. "Your imminent death if you stick around isn't a good enough reason?"

Going for lighthearted, Tommy shrugged and said, "You said you killed two of your lovers. We're not lovers, and since it's really unlikely I’m gonna trip and fall on your dick, I think I'm pretty safe."

Adam shook his head. "This isn't a joke. Go home, Tommy. Forget you ever met me."

"No," Tommy said, his rebellious streak rearing its head, but more than that, a sudden tight feeling spread through his chest at the thought of not seeing Adam again, even though realistically he barely knew the guy. "Now, I'm gonna go back downstairs and play a couple of songs. I really hope you come down and sing again. Your voice is fucking amazing."

Not waiting for a response, Tommy turned and walked out. When he reached the foyer, he pulled out his guitar, sat on the floor under a window and started playing. He'd only gotten out a few bars, though, before Adam was suddenly in front of him, snatching the guitar out of his hands.

"What-" Tommy started, only for Adam to interrupt.

"You have to leave," Adam whispered urgently.

"What? Why?" Tommy asked, scrambling to his feet.

"Teenagers. They're on their way up the drive to check out the supposedly haunted house," Adam explained. "It's not going to be very convincing if they find you in here."

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

Adam growled and the next thing Tommy knew he was upside down and over Adam's shoulder, the stairs speeding by as Adam carried him up two flights faster than Tommy could blink. When Adam set him down, they were in a closet in Adam's bedroom.

"Seriously," Tommy said, irritated. "Why does everyone think that because I’m tiny it's alright to just pick me up and carry me around?"

"If you won't leave, I have to hide you," Adam said by way of explanation, stepping in close.

Tommy tried to take a step back, but Adam's arm snaked around his waist, pulling him in tight.

"What are you-"

"Hold on," Adam said gruffly.

Sensing it would be in his best interests to listen, Tommy wrapped his arms around Adam's neck. One second, they were in the closet of Adam's bedroom, the next, Tommy's stomach had bottomed out and they were standing in what looked like the attic, next to a hole in the floor.

Glancing around at what appeared to be an art studio, Tommy said, "Holy fuck."

"Stay here," Adam ordered, turning to head back down the hole.

"Wait," Tommy said, grabbing Adam's arm. "My guitar."

Adam cursed. Shaking free of Tommy's hold, he disappeared down the hole, only to reappear a few seconds later, holding Tommy's guitar and case.

Staring hard at Tommy, Adam said, "Stay put and don't touch anything. I'll be back as soon as I get rid of them."

Tommy nodded and watched Adam disappear down the hole again. After he was gone, Tommy carefully placed his guitar back in the case, then stood, looking around. The attic was virtually dust free, much like Adam's room. There were a couple of tables nearby, one covered with a white cloth, jars of paint scattered across the surface, the other bare wood. Next to the cloth-covered one were a couple of easels, also covered with cloth. Leaning against three of the walls were more cloth-covered canvases.

Tommy hesitated. Adam had told him not to touch anything, but after a few minutes, curiosity got the best of him and with a quick glance at the hole Adam had disappeared down, he headed for them. Crouching down, he lifted the bottom corner of one and peeked underneath. He couldn't see a lot in the dark, though, so with another slight hesitation, he picked it up and carried it over to a window at one end of the attic.

With his back to the window so that moonlight splashed across the canvas, Tommy lifted the sheet covering it and just … stared. The painting was amazing. It was some sort of mashup of Greek mythological creatures and astrological signs and rushing water. The lines and the colors were so vivid that they jumped right off the canvas at Tommy, literally taking his breath away for a second.

Reverently, Tommy dropped the cloth back over the top of it to protect it and set it back in place along one wall. He looked at a few others, all just as amazing and just as trippy, before he found himself standing in front of one of the easels. Since it was already facing the moonlight, he didn't need to move it to see.

Lifting the sheet, he froze for a second at the familiar face staring back at him. His face. Adam was painting him. It was clearly unfinished, but even so, it was so … lifelike. Tommy wasn't sure whether to be flattered or creeped out.

Deciding to be flattered, he dropped the cloth and moved on to a set of canvases leaning against the wall opposite the window, just beyond the easel. They were bathed in moonlight too. Glancing at the hole again, he listened for a moment. There hadn't been any screaming so far, so he was pretty sure he had time yet.

Crouching down, he lifted the cloth from the nearest canvas and tensed. It was him again. This one was a finished painting. It was of him sitting in the foyer, playing guitar. He was caught between awe at Adam's skill and a flutter of wariness.

Glancing at the next canvas over, Tommy hesitated only a second before lifting the cloth covering it. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. It was him yet again, but this time he was standing in front of his house, blond hair sticking straight up in his old style, back before he'd dyed it and had it cut asymmetrical. Meaning, back before he'd come to the house the first time with his friends.

Heart hammering in his chest, Tommy dropped the cloth and stood, stumbling backwards. Downstairs, he heard a roar, screams, then footsteps and the front door slamming shut. Tommy hurried to the middle of the room just in time for Adam to shoot up through the hole in the attic floor and land gracefully on his feet.

Adam took one look at him and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Tommy started for the hole. "Nothing. I just, uh, forgot I'm supposed to play with the band at a bar tonight. I'm gonna be late if I don't go now."

"Oh," Adam said, looking vaguely disappointed. "Okay. Come on. I'll get you down."

Tommy hesitated before stepping in close. He held his breath as Adam slipped an arm around him and pulled him in tight, then jumped down to the third floor with him. There was a brief moment between Tommy's feet touching the floor of the closet and Adam letting him go where they simply stood pressed together, staring at each other.

Tommy's mind blanked on everything but the clear blue of Adam's eyes as his demon features melted away. Adam leaned in a little and Tommy's breath caught in his throat, sure Adam was about to kiss him. Instead, though, Adam froze. An instant later, his eyes bled back to black, the spidery veins crept back over his skin and his bone structure in his face contorted again.

Before Tommy could even blink at the sudden change, Adam released him to jump back up for his guitar. Shell shocked, Tommy stayed where Adam left him, mind swimming. When Adam had held him, he hadn't felt like a monster, even when he'd looked like one. He didn't feel like an obsessed psycho, either. He felt like… He felt like Adam. He felt right. More accurately, it felt right to be in his arms. And if he'd kissed Tommy the way it seemed like he'd wanted to, Tommy was pretty sure that would have felt right, too, even though Tommy had never had an urge to kiss a guy before in his life.

Adam jumped back down through the hole, startling Tommy out of his thoughts, and they headed downstairs. At the door, Tommy paused and turned back to Adam. "Sorry. About running off like this. I just, like, totally spaced on the gig."

"Sure," Adam said, looking like he didn't believe a word of Tommy's excuse, even though he was apparently willing to go along with it.

Thankful for that, Tommy offered him a strained smile, yanked the door open, and all but ran out. He made it out of the driveway and halfway down the next block before he finally stopped to take a breath and consider what he'd just found out. Adam had known who he was before Tommy stepped foot in the mansion the first time. That much was obvious from the painting set in front of his house with his old haircut.

Oh shit. His house. Adam knew where he lived. More importantly, Adam had been there enough times to be able to paint it from memory. Tommy hadn't even had a clue anyone was watching him.

Tensing, Tommy glanced around, wondering if Adam was there right then, lurking in the shadows. He almost called out, almost told Adam to come out if he was there, but frankly, he didn't really want to know if he was. He just wanted to forget the whole thing. That decided, he all but ran the rest of the way home.



Three nights later, Tommy had no choice but to leave the apartment to go to the grocery store. It was either that or starve, since everything in the kitchen was either stale or growing something fuzzy. He tried to make the trip a quick one, but apparently he hadn't been quick enough, because when he got home and climbed out of his car with a grocery bag in his arms, it was to the distinct feeling that he wasn't alone. Freezing in his tracks, he scanned the bushes on one side of the building, then the shadows on the other, which were cast by a huge, old oak tree.

Gathering his courage, Tommy said, "I know you're there, Adam."

Stepping out of the shadows, Adam crossed the driveway, stopping a few feet away, human face hiding the black veins and contorted features Tommy had grown used to seeing. "Hi."

"What are you doing?" Tommy asked, brushing aside the greeting.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You haven't come out to the mansion in a few days."

"Yeah, well, you said to stay away. I'm staying away," Tommy replied.

"I said that before the last time you showed up, but you still came back. What changed?" Adam asked.

Tommy pressed his lips together and looked away.

He could see Adam step closer out of the corner of his eye, but he refused to take a step back, refused to give Adam that kind of power. Still, he nearly jumped three feet in the air when Adam reached out and hooked a finger under his chin, bringing his face around until Tommy met his gaze.

Adam stared at him for a moment, then dropped his hand, expression closing off. "You saw the paintings. You know."

"Yeah, I did," Tommy snapped. "How long, Adam?"

It was Adam's turn to look away, to refuse to meet Tommy's eyes.

Through clenched teeth, Tommy repeated, "How long, Adam?"

Meeting Tommy's gaze again, Adam said quietly, "About six months."

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Tommy asked, "Why?"

Something in Adam's expression hardened. "Because I'm a monster."

"Well stop it," Tommy retorted. "It's a total creeper move. I don't need you lurking around in my goddamn bushes, okay?"

Adam growled low in his throat and his face rippled, as if he was having a hard time holding the demon at bay. "Don't worry. I won't bother you again."

With that, he turned and stalked off, disappearing back into the shadows. Tommy stood there for a long minute, mixed emotions warring inside him. Giving in to the anger, he shouted in frustration, then stomped into the apartment, cursing Adam the whole way.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his awesome voice. And fuck him and his lies and his stalking and everything else about him. A month ago, Tommy hadn't even known Adam existed and he'd been doing just fine without him in his life. He'd do just fine now, too.

[Chapter 4]