I Feel That Goes W/o Saying Now - Blog Posts

goldenboyrichards​:

After getting off of the Tunnel of Love, Adam couldn’t remember a single thing until he woke up surrounded by ash and smoke. Hours of his life were just missing, gone completely as if he’d fallen asleep and woken up. Adam had been popular in high school - he wasn’t unknown at parties. But even back then, he had never truly gotten so drunk that he blacked out. Whatever had happened to him at the carnival was something else entirely, something much more confusing. 

But when he’d come to? All Adam had seen was carnage. People injured, people dead, and Cole being loaded into a fucking ambulance. Adam had been too dazed to follow; he needed a minute to breath and figure out what had even happened. Because he just didn’t know - but there were several people glaring at him like he was responsible for this. Not solely, the others from the forest commune had helped, it seemed. But…. what had they done? And why?

Once he had fully come back into his own body, he remembered the nightmare he’d had. Or maybe it was a memory? But… but Adam would never hurt Cole. Even nightmare Adam hadn’t wanted to. But the thought of shoving him, pinning him against a wall and telling him to ‘fucking leave me alone already’ made Adam’s chest ache. 

As he caught a ride with someone to the hospital, he couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Just the thought that there was maybe a chance that he’d actually done that made Adam feel like he was going to throw up. 

Adam had waited while Cole lay on a bed, resting after breaking his rib. He couldn’t imagine that he was comfortable - that it didn’t hurt him. Adam would do anything in the world to take the pain from him, add it to his body instead of Cole’s. But there was nothing he could do but watch as his chest rose and fell, steady with the beeping of the heart monitor he was hooked up to. 

When Cole finally came to and asked about the lights, Adam leapt up immediately, reaching over to flick one set of fluorescents off. He thought about turning both off, but… well, what if Cole didn’t want to be in the dark? What if he was scared of Adam? His worst fear was seemingly confirmed when Cole stared at him, studying Adam’s eyes. 

Arms wrapping around him to hold himself together, Adam met his gaze sheepishly. Not because he wanted to, but because Cole deserved to see that it was him standing in front of him.  “Hey,” He replied, feeling far too casual given every fucking thing the two of them had been through. He kept his distance, standing by the light switch near the doorway. “Are you…. is it okay that I’m here?” Adam asked quietly, looking down at the floor. “I was worried about you. I don’t… I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything.” 

xx.

The rush of tears made Cole feel lightheaded and, despite his frantic blinking, they spilled down his cheeks. It was him. Adam was okay. He knew it was his him when he heard the layers of guilt in his voice, when his boyfriend angled his head to the floor. Cole hated seeing him like this, maybe just as much as he hated seeing out-of-body Adam. “Sweetheart,” Cole cooed, attempting to make his brittle voice sound comforting.

“Of course... Of course I want you here. Will you come sit by me?” he asked gently, though internally he felt like he was twelve years old, begging his mother not to leave him at bedtime. He was afraid of what happened, of course. But more than he was afraid for his own safety, he was terrified of what all of this meant for Adam. A pang of guilt swirled amidst the fear; Cole should’ve told Adam everything he knew, right away.

As Adam sat next to him, still cautious, afraid of something, Cole reached out his arm, offered his hand. “I’m okay,” he promised. “I’ll be fine. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” He searched Adam’s body for any sign of injury and met his eyes. Cole desperately wished that this was all they had to talk about, that Adam could climb into bed with him and things could be simple. But he knew better, and he wouldn’t leave Adam in the dark, not again.

Painfully, Cole twisted and picked up his water, needing some relief for his throat before he dared dive into this. “You don’t remember anything?” he asked, eyes lingering on the crease in Adam’s brow. He desperately wanted to shield Adam from this, to never tell him what horrible things had been done and said through his body.

Cole was crying again, in anticipation for how much this was going to hurt Adam. Adam, who couldn’t fathom hurting another person or letting someone down. Adam, who was always so good, who happily took on the burden of being the strong one, the shoulder to cry on. Adam, who deserved better than all of this. Cole bit down on his trembling lower lip, willing himself to keep it together, if only for Adam’s sake.

“Before you died,” he began cautiously, knowing that even saying that much was still shocking, “You were different. It wasn’t you. I didn’t know until later, but you were... possessed, I guess. By this thing they call the Mindflayer. It made you act different and then... it killed you. Or, it died and you died with it.” The whole thing still hurt his head, honestly, and there weren’t nearly enough answers. “I don’t know how or who or why but... you came back. And I think it’s happening again... it controlling you. I thought you were going to die again,” he choked back another influx of tears, remembering that horrifying moment at the carnival.

Cole had immediately recognized the similarities between Adam at the carnival and Adam the last day he saw him-- the stiffness of his body, the coldness of his tone, the cruelty of his words. He hoped Adam never found out about that moment. Swiping at his cheek with the back of his hand, Cole met Adam’s eyes again and tried for an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I don’t have more answers. But we’ll figure it out. Together, like you said.” He lifted Adam’s hand to his lips, ignoring the shooting pain from his ribcage. “I promise, love, we’ll figure it out.” He didn’t know what figuring it out meant, not even remotely, but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere until they did.