Fic: “all you feel is…” Part 8 of 12 complete (Tommy/Adam NC-17)

[wynkat_writes]

"all you feel is..." part eight

Card 7 (Factors or inner feelings affecting the situation)
Ten of Wands



The number Ten refers to Malkuth, which depends from the other nine Sephiroth, but is not directly in communication with them. It shows the Force detached from its spiritual sources. It is become a blind Force; so, the most violent form of that particular energy, without any modifying influences. The flames in the back ground of the card have run wild. It is Fire in its most destructive aspect.
- Aleister Crowley, The Book of Thoth, The Small Cards

“The next card represents factors or emotions that affect the situation at hand,” Robyn says, turning over the first card in the row of cards running up along the side of the cross.”

“So how I feel about what’s going on?” Tommy asks, leaning forward, one arm resting on his knee.

“Not quite,” Robyn says, her fingers fiddling with the pile of unused cards on the table. She takes a breath and looks up at Tommy. “This is more about what emotions might be having a direct impact on the situation. You could be happy about some part of the situation and still not happy about the situation in general. The fact that you are happy would have an impact on how things work out. Does that make sense?”

“Um. Yeah, I think so.” Tommy nods and leans in a little closer. “So what’s this card?”

“This is the Ten of Wands. It’s about force out of control, disconnected from spirit. It’s about blockages and, as it says, oppression. Using more power, more fire or force than necessary because your judgment is clouded.”

Tommy turns to Adam with a wry grin. “You know, you said this would be fun. I’m beginning to wonder about your definition of that word.”

Adam shrugs. He’s slouched in his chair but there’s a tension in his body that speaks volumes to Tommy about how not normal this reading has turned out to be. Tommy’s own tension is bubbling out through a rhythm bouncing along his leg.

“Don’t look at me. I tend to get amazing, happy card readings.”

Tommy snorts. Of course Adam does, that’s just so him. “Yeah, well. That’s probably just Brad spreading his ‘sparkle’ all over everything again. Damn stuff is catching!”

Adam laughs and throws a mock slap in Tommy’s direction.

Tommy bats at Adam with kitty paws. “Hey, you promised me orgasmic man!”

“I did not.”

“I’m certain you did. Well someone did.”

Tommy looks at Adam and they both pause for the length of a breath before saying “Brad!”

~~~~

Under Tommy’s joking words, Robyn can feel his worry. The cards in this reading are bitterly dark. In any other situation she would probably have suggested they try again another day, but something about this reading, about the energy around it, and how vivid the images accompanying it have become, are demanding that she see it through to the end.

Looking at the ten of wands feels like looking at a wall of fire. There is noise just beyond the edge of Robyn’s hearing, and a tension just under her skin that makes her want to scratch until she is bleeding. The more she looks, the more intense the sensations get until she feels like she is going to explode if something doesn’t shift soon and then it’s gone. She can breathe again.

Adam stops in the doorway of the rehab center and stares, memories colliding with memories as he watches Tommy work through - something - with his left hand. His right arm has an attachment, a prosthetic, Adam assumes, with a metal thing at the end that looks, frankly, a little vicious. Tommy’s face is lined with strain and sweat. His hair is its natural dark brown and Mohawk-less, pulled back in a pony tail that is hanging absurdly long down his back. It has to be the strangest look Adam has ever seen on Tommy, and yet, it’s stunning.

And it hurts. So damn much.

Two years ago, to the day, Adam had been standing on a stage in Auckland, New Zealand singing ‘Enter Sandman’ to a sold out crowd for Tommy’s birthday. It had been amazing and spectacular.

Two nights ago he’d played the last leg of his second Pan-Asian tour in Hawaii. Without Tommy and it had felt like ripping a bandage off an open wound.

He’d meant to stay on Oahu for a couple of days before coming home to LA to prep for the Halloween party and see his folks, but he just couldn’t. He’d found himself looking over his shoulder for Tommy everywhere he went in Hawaii. It hadn’t helped that they’d stayed at the same hotel they been at last time and played on the same stages. He kept remembering the things they had done together and with the others as part of Tommy’s extended birthday celebration and to celebrate their two week vacation.

The second tour had been going amazingly well so far. They’d all settled into a groove that worked, even the fans had gotten to love Matt with his tall dark and handsome ways and smooth bass playing. But as they got closer to Tommy’s birthday the Meet & Greets with the fans had gotten crazy. It seemed like every person was suddenly asking him how Tommy was doing and handing him cards and gifts to pass on. It was amazing and heartbreaking. They loved him so much and Adam had to lie and tell them he was doing good, getting better every day, and would be back with them soon. But in reality? Adam hadn’t heard from Tommy in over six weeks. He only had Dia and Lisa’s emails to go off of, and those had gone from short to terse to nearly non-existent. Adam had no clue how things were going, but the last time he talked to Tommy, Tommy had told him to leave him the fuck alone and never call him again. It had nearly killed Adam to do it, but Monte and Terrance, and even Cam of all people, had insisted that Adam back off and give Tommy some time. So he had. He’d thrown himself into the tour and the fans and it had been good.

But now he’s home. Now he needs to know.

Watching Tommy working his way through whatever thing he’s trying to do with his hand - opening and closing the fingers of his left hand around some red thing - makes Adam’s own hand ache in sympathy. He wants to get closer, find out what in fact Tommy’s doing and why, but he can’t make his feet move.

A woman steps up beside him, her light brown ponytail bouncing as she moves. She smiles at Adam and holds out her hand. “Mr. Lambert?”

Adam takes her hand and nods. “Adam, please.”

The woman nods. “I’m Marissa Sinclair, Assistant Manager for the facility.”

Adam nods in return and makes himself keep his eyes on Marissa with her cheerful green eyes that match her uniform track suit, when all he really wants is to go back to watching Tommy.

“You’re here to see Tommy, I assume?”

“Yeah. That’s okay, isn’t it? His mother said-“

Marissa smiles and holds up a hand. “That’s fine. He’s welcome to have visitors and I know he wants to see you.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Ah. Got mad at you the last time you talked?”

Adam nods, surprised.

Marissa smiles again and it’s warmer now, filled with something a lot like compassion.

“That happens a lot. There’s a lot of anger around limb loss and discovering you are now differently-abled. Especially when it’s sudden like his was. Traumatic injury is hard enough to deal with mentally and physically. Add in the shock of no longer having a part of yourself?” Marissa shrugs, and the movement shifts her stance enough for Adam to see that she too is wearing a prosthesis on one arm, it looks a lot more life like that Tommy’s. “The process is different for everyone, but the anger is always there somewhere.”

“How’s he doing?” Adam asks, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and shaking Marissa for being so chipper or wrapping Tommy in a hug.

Marissa turns to watch Tommy and Adam follows. “Much better. He’s been making real progress over the last month or so. I assume you know he was very resistant to the prosthesis at first?”

Adam nods. The pain in Tommy’s voice when he’d called after his first fitting had been horrible, but the rapid-fire mood swings had been worse. Tommy had gone from despondent and sobbing to howling mad in a flash and Adam had no idea what to do to help him.

“It was difficult to get him to agree to the protocols involved in preparing his limb for the prosthesis, so there were complications that delayed getting him started with his training. The final surgery to his other hand also slowed the overall recovery plan for both arms, but he’s on track and doing very well now.”

The man working with Tommy says something to him and Tommy unclenches his left hand with an audible sigh. The man grins and it lights up his dusky face. Tommy says something and the guy laughs taking the red thing out of Tommy’s grip- Adam can see it’s a ball- and tossing it in the air before putting it on the table next to them. Tommy says something else and the man appears to think about it, as though it’s a difficult request then grins and reaches down out of Adam’s view and comes back up with a large book.

“That’s Ahmed,” Marissa says as they watch Tommy and the man bend to look over pages in the book. “He’s Tommy’s physical therapist.”

Adam nods, fascinated by the animated way Tommy is pointing at something on the page. His face looks bright and alive. He’s even smiling. Beside Adam, Marissa chuckles.

“What?” Adam asks.

“Ahmed is in a band, a bassist.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m betting that’s not one of our standard PT books they just pulled out.”

Adam smiles and it feels good to be able to do that in this place under these conditions. “No, probably not.”

“Oops. We’ve been spotted.” Marissa nods her head back toward Tommy and Ahmed. Tommy is looking over at Adam now, a soft smile on his face. “Come on. Time to face the music, as it were.”

Ahmed stands and offers his hand as Adam and Marissa approach.

“Hi,” Ahmed says. “Nice to meet you. Tommy’s told me a lot about you.”

“Has he?”

“All good!” Ahem puts his hands up in mock surrender.

“You made it.” Tommy says quietly, almost like he’s shy.

Adam turns on the charm, covering his confusion, and spreads his arms out wide. Tommy was never shy with him, not even at his audition. “Like I would miss your birthday!”

Tommy dips his head, a stray lock of hair falling across his face. “Well… with your schedule…”

Adam doesn’t even think about it, he puts a finger under Tommy’s chin and lifts his face so he can look Tommy in the eyes. “I made them set the schedule so I could be here. Power of being me, right?”

“Rock star power!”

“You know it.”

“So, Tommy, you ready to show Adam what you’ve been up to?” Ahmed asks, though Adam can tell it’s a bit more like a strongly worded instruction than a question.

“Sure. Just, stand there, okay?” Tommy says to Adam and then adjusts his chair so that he is now facing Adam and Marissa. Tommy sits down and uses his left hand to arrange a set of objects on the table in between them. There’s a banana, and the remnants of another one off to the side, a cell phone, a glass with water in it, and a bowl with several eggs in it.

Marissa leans in and whispers to Adam. “This is a set of dexterity exercises that we have amputees work through to learn how to control their prosthesis. The different sizes and weights help the person learn how much force is needed to open and close the claw in order to pick up, move, and put down an item. Practicing with eggs teaches finesse and subtlety.”

Tommy snorts. “Never one of my strong points, I know, but-“ Tommy uses his right arm with its metal claw to reach into the bowl and pick up one of the eggs. Adam finds himself watching Tommy’s face almost as much as his arm. He watches the concentration there as Tommy focuses on maneuvering the egg into the air, across the table to stop in front of Adam.

“For you,” Tommy says, with a huge smile.

Adam grins back and plucks the egg out from between Tommy’s metal grip. “Thanks, I think.”

***

Tommy leads Adam rapidly through the maze of hallways to the cafeteria where they grab lunch, a massive burger for Tommy and a salad for Adam. The ladies running the place have apparently been waiting for Tommy and know that it’s his birthday. They hand him a small tower of a chocolate cake with one candle on top and two forks. They also pass them two bottles of beer with a wink and a “just don’t tell anyone” and then Adam and Tommy are on their way to Tommy’s room to eat.

“Making friends with the natives I see,” Adam says as they settle in.

Tommy laughs. “Yeah. Janice and Hannah are awesome. Janice makes this killer omelet on Sundays - has all kinds of meat in it and not a single solitary vegetable.”

“A vegetable now and then wouldn’t kill you, you know.”

“Whatever. It’s amazing. Big as your face, man. And overflowing with bacon and sausage and cheese and ham and-“

Adam laughs, he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of Tommy’s enthusiasm for food. “I get the point. It’s a meat feast pizza inside some eggs.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Tommy bites down on his burger and sighs. Adam shakes his head fondly. This feels good. This is what they used to do. Then he looks again.

Tommy’s long-sleeved t-shirt is hanging loose on the right side where his arm is gone somewhere below the elbow. With nothing to give it shape or purpose the sleeve is just hanging there limp. It’s the first time Adam is actually aware of the reality of Tommy’s missing hand.

Tommy had taken his prosthetic off when they’d gotten to his room, slipped out of the harness like it was second nature to him and then gone and sat down at the table. Now Adam can’t stop staring. He knows he needs to get over it but he’s never actually seen Tommy’s right arm without the bandages, just the stump and not his hand.

Adam looks up in the silence and sees Tommy watching him.

“I’m sorry. I just - “

“It’s okay. I did the same thing myself the first time the bandages came off. Still do some days. Just sit in front of the mirror and stare.”

“Does it hurt?”

Tommy shrugs. “Not really. Not any more. I get those phantom sensations and pains now and then. Mostly right after the surgery. They say it gets better for most people with time. But for some folks the sensations never completely go away. So, who knows?”

Adam’s making himself look at Tommy’s face and not his arm, he’s not sure he’d ever be able to stop staring if he looked down again right now.

“It’s okay. Really,” Tommy says. He pushes up the sleeve on his right arm till it’s near his shoulder, exposing his arm completely.

“Look, I know I was a jerk to you, and I’m sorry. I was just really fucking angry, you know? Not at you but at the whole situation.”

Adam nods, caught by the sight of Tommy’s arm. At the way it just stops half way through his Depeche Mode tattoo so that the stem of the rose just cuts off. Which means…

“Your Libra tat?”

Tommy looks down, turns his arm so that the inside is facing Adam.

“Gone,” Tommy says, quietly. “There was too much damage to the tissue from the infection. It was better to cut down to healthy tissue and make sure I didn’t need any more surgery later.”

“Oh god, Tommy. I’m so sorry.”

Tommy shrugs. “’S’okay. It is what it is, you know?”

But it isn’t and they both know it.

“You can touch it.”

Adam looks up, knowing his shock has to be plastered across his face.

“It’s okay. Its actually kinda homework for me. Sort of.” Tommy ducks his head and then looks back up, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I have to desensitize the skin so it’s easier to wear the prosthesis, except that all that time I was bitching and moaning, I didn’t exactly do it, so now… Now it still kinda like hurts more than I want it to when I wear the thing. So really, like, you would like be helping me out.”

Adam laughs, it’s the only thing he can do when Tommy starts rambling like that. “Okay, okay. Yeah. I’d like to, is that weird?”

“Maybe,” Tommy says, with a smirk, “but then, you’re weird, so that’s okay.”

Adam gets up and walks over to Tommy. He reaches one hand out and then stops, his fingers hovering over Tommy’s skin.

Tommy looks up at Adam. There’s something there in Tommy’s eyes that Adam can’t read. Some need that he doesn’t understand. “Please,” Tommy says softly. “I want - “

Adam folds himself down until he is resting on his knees in front of Tommy and then lets his fingers brush against Tommy’s bicep. It doesn’t feel any different than he remembers. Its just skin on skin. Tommy’s under his own. He strokes his hand down the length of Tommy’s arm, watching John Wayne’s likeness shift under his fingers as the skin bends beneath his touch.

“How does it feel?” Adam asks.

“G-good.” Tommy says. “Kinda tickles.”

Tommy shivers, his eyes tracking Adam’s fingers as they slide down the remnant of the rose between the “D” and the “M” in his Depeche Mode tat and finally settle at the base of his stump.

Tommy squeaks and then giggles. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s really ticklish right now. Gets that way after being cooped up in the socket.”

Adam stills his hand. “Should I stop?”

“No, no. It’s okay. Just. It’s just different than it used to be.”

Adam nods and lets his fingers move again, watching them glide across the perfectly rounded end of Tommy’s arm, listening to Tommy’s breathing. The skin is still pink and mottled in a few places, scarring he assumes, but none of it is on the very bottom where the bone would press into the skin, there it’s all smooth and new.

“What made you change your mind?” Adam asks, mesmerized by the way Tommy’s skin feels.

“Hmm?”

“About the prosthesis. You were so against it and now you look like a pro using it. What changed?”

“Oh.” Tommy shivers as Adam’s fingers press against one of the lines of scar tissue.

“Ummm. I dunno really. I was tired of being miserable all the time. Kind of? It’s hard to explain. I was so angry about what happened and for a while there was just this wall of pain. My hand hurt all the fucking time, even through the drugs. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feed myself or wipe my own ass. It was just fucking awful. And I wanted it to end.”

Tommy looks away, out the window at something, when he speaks again his voice is hollow and distant.

“For a while I even wished I had died in the crash.”

Tommy turns back to Adam, tears clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know that’s gotta hurt, but its true.”

Adam nods, not trusting his voice.

“I just hated everything. And I really, really wanted someone to blame.” Tommy shrugs. Adam can feel the movement under his fingers as Tommy’s arm rises and falls within his grasp. “My head doc says that’s why I turned on you. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Adam whispers.

“No. It’s not. But, thanks. There was a whole fuck ton of talking,” Tommy says with a groan and Adam smiles. “Yeah, you know how I feel about that.” Adam nods because he really does know. Tommy’s a talker, but only with a few select people.

“Well I didn’t really talk for the longest time. I just sulked. And kicked things. Then when I did start talking it all came out as screaming and yelling.”

Adam nods, he was on the receiving end of some of that. Tommy nods back.

“One night I was out in the garden - they make us do these meditation walk things.” Tommy rolls his eyes but there’s a soft smile there that Adam finds curious. “And I was kicking things on the path and bitching at the air cause Doc said I had to try talking out my feelings some more.

“There was a full moon that night, I remember it came up over the hill looking like this huge fucking pumpkin. It was so big and so close it was like you coulda walked up the path and touched it.” He shrugs again. “Something about it… I started yelling at it. At the moon. Asking why the fuck they’d done this to me. What did I ever do to anyone to deserve getting fucked up like this? To have everything I ever wanted taken away?”

Adam reaches one hand out to touch the tear on Tommy’s cheek. “Did you get an answer?”

Tommy looks at him, his eyes shinning with more than tears. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah I did.”

Tommy’s silent for a moment and Adam watches his face - the muscles around his mouth and around his eyes tensing and relaxing as emotions crowd together and spill over.

“I heard this voice say ‘we’re sorry’,” Tommy says, his voice soft and just a little awestruck. “And then ‘we couldn’t stop what was to come but we did what we could to make it hurt less.’”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“And that was it? That made you change your mind?”

“No. Yes. Sort of?” Tommy looks down at his arm. Adam’s still rubbing circles across it.

“I mean I was still mad. And I was still yelling at people but something about that night made things a little easier somehow. Like somehow I got it finally - that thing you were always talking about, how spirit is always with us, always around. That whole spirit as separate from religion and churches thing.

“I stopped fighting the meditation walks as much, especially when there was a moon I could see. I’d go find a tree to lean against and just look up and watch the moon rise or set across the sky. Some nights I’d talk - about whatever, the day or how much I hated losing my hand. Other nights I would just listen.”

“What did you hear?” Adam asks, caressing the new skin at the base of Tommy’s arm.

“Sometimes nothing. Sometimes thoughts or words, sometimes music. All different things. I fell asleep out there one night. Got in so much trouble for scarring the staff.” Tommy laughs. “I had to promise to be extra nice to Ahmed after that one!”

Adam smiles along with Tommy. “I’ll bet.”

“Yeah, it was worth it though. Had some cool dreams.”

Tommy falls silent, his eyes focused on something just beyond them both and Adam is content to leave him to his thoughts. Adam moves his fingers up along the underside of Tommy’s arm, where the skin is pale and unmarked by ink. The muscles under his fingers are firm and strong, healthy.

“So, no more fighting the doctors?” Adam asks.

“Nah, that got old. Besides, that guy you sent - John Denner?

Adam raises his eyes to Tommy’s and tries not to look too pleased. “You met him?”

“Yep. Sick ass guitar player!”

Adam laughs. “So, good idea?”

“Better than. I’ve got a sleeve coming from him to practice with, it’s black with these red flames and one of his modified picks attached at the end. I can’t fucking wait!”

“You’re gonna play again?” Adam asks, and he knows he’s failed miserably at keeping the hope out of his voice.

Tommy nods and takes a breath. “Gonna try. I want to. I just - I don’t know…”

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happens. However it works out. It’s okay.” Adam takes hold of both of Tommy’s arms, holding him tightly and looking him square in the eyes. He’s trying to pour every ounce of confidence and love he has into his words and just hopes Tommy can understand what he’s trying to say.

After a moment Tommy nods. “Thanks.”

part nine