adarkflash (adarkflash) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-03-20 02:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | flash thompson, mary jane watson |
Who: Adam and MK
When: Shortly after she woke up
Where: Hospital
What: Post plot-switch talk
Warnings: Uncomfortable talk about drug abuse, self harm and death.
The violent outburst set MK’s recovery back by at least a day, and doctors and nurses on the ICU ward alike found themselves concerned with her mental well-being when she woke up again. Rumors and tabloid stories padded the picture of mental instability painted by the infamous redhead and that freak-out that rumbled through the hospital hallway. It was barely three hours after that news broke of that, an “anonymous source” weaving a tale of a woman who was a harm to others as well as herself. An insane husk of a woman now lost in a din of addiction, depression, and a surprisingly wild sort of anger. The public ate it up, enjoying every single second of the breakdown. It was satisfying to see the mighty fallen, to watch someone’s life crumble from an arm’s length. None of the people who gobbled up the story thought of the real consequences of any of this. Not what her loved ones thought, not what her family might see, not what MK herself suffered through. They all just loved a good story, and the fall of MK Robinson was a good story.
Not that MK knew about any of this at all. No, the sedation had her down for the entire rest of the day and through the night, and when she finally woke up, it was mid-morning the next day. Her mouth felt dry, and the first thing she recognized was that itch. She wanted a fix so bad, wanted a drink or a bump or even her colorful pills. Anything to take the edge off. Everything else came back slowly. The suit, Stark’s bathroom floor, Sam visiting her. Adam apparently stepping over her seizing body as she nearly died back in the Marvel version of New York. The anger and betrayal boiled underneath her skin, just like that itch, and she laid in bed tight-lipped and refusing to speak to anyone, to take any drug by the mouth, to eat or drink anything. She had to be hooked up to another IV to keep her hydrated, and the nurses continuously clucked at her to try to get her to relent. But she wouldn’t. She laid there in silence, red hair in a braid across her shoulder, gown fresh after her incident, and back turned to the door. Part of her wanted to be alone for the rest of her life, and another part just wanted someone who actually cared to crawl into her hospital bed and hold her tight.
Adam hadn’t been at MK’s side constantly, waiting for her to wake up. He had things to take care of now that he was back in Vegas and if he wanted to put in as many hours as he could at the ER. Helping other people with sprained wrists and broken noses was a lot easier than facing down what MK did to herself. A year ago he was so sure he could see this through with her and the time he spent trying to figure out when that changed felt endless. Adam didn’t know and dwelling felt wasteful. Wren promised things would get better from here on out. If he was patient, obedient and never asked for anything, MK would get better and this would all be behind them. It wasn’t going to be easy, it didn’t even promise that they’d end up on the other side of it together, but he knew he had an obligation.
An obligation he almost ran from when he heard that she had some kind of meltdown. He didn’t know what it was about and thought maybe waking up alone with the memory of Venom likely caused it, so he knew it was his duty to talk her through it. And, all he could feel was a filmy disconnect from the rest of the world. Like someone had signed him up for volunteer work he had no experience in. If things could just go back to how they were a year ago maybe he’d be able to put his full compassion into this. With MK partying at a normal amount and him working nonstop at the clinic. No love or complications involved. They were supposed to be a break, a temporary buzz from their shattered lives for each other, but now it was more burden. More pain.
So, he stood in the doorway looking at her deflated frame and wondered how much of the MK he knew was left in there. Adam probably stayed there longer than he should until a nurse poked her head in and whispered a summary of what they were monitoring to unintentionally give up his otherwise silent presence. He put on the doctor act well, even if he wasn’t hers this time due to personal reasons again, assuring the nurses that it would be fine with that calm smile and confidence that made him so good at his profession. When they were alone again, Adam stepped towards the bed and took a seat at her back, body tense and eyes on her fragile shoulders. “Heard you had trouble when you woke up? Hoped I’d be here when you’d come to, sorry I wasn’t.”
Her shoulders tensed when she heard Adam’s voice accompany one of the nurse’s. Up until that point, it had only been an influx of various nurses and a doctor to check in on physical well-being. A psychiatrist had come in earlier in the day to prod her into talking about something, but she simply laid there. Silent, without one damn word, and barely breathing. She wanted to pull those goddamn IVs out again; perhaps this time she would bleed out before they could scramble in the brigade to help her. That would solve everyone’s problems, wouldn’t it? Wren and Luke wouldn’t feel obligated to guilt, Adam could finally get away from her and do whatever the hell she wanted, Sam would stay clean. She had fucked up so many lives, clearly, and either she should end it all or burrow far away from everyone ever.
Hearing him so calm and reassuring made MK sick to her stomach, and she didn’t turn around when she heard the chair scraping across the floor towards her bed. She shrugged at his question, curled the blanket around her further, and tugged hard on that red braid. Suddenly she wished for that sedation again, a blissful escape from the ache for a hit and the throbbing hurt in her heart. She wanted an escape from it all, something permanent and wonderfully selfish, but that sweet release wouldn’t come in this hospital room with him boring into her back. The silence hung heavy between them until her tiny, raspy voice rang through. “It’s okay. I know you don’t want to be here anyway. Go, leave.” She sounded weak, pathetic, and nothing like the woman he knew a year ago. Before all the pain really caught up with her.
A tense quiet filled the hospital air and Adam turned his head slowly to look down at his hands. “Don’t want to be here. Correct.” He said simply, rough hands digging into the arms of the cheap, worn chair he sat in. “Don’t want to see you this way, either. But, here because I want you to get better.” His tone was all calm waters with nothing simmering underneath, but he had gotten very good at burying his feelings as far down as they could go. It didn’t match his stiff posture, his straight back like he was uncomfortably formal. It was a lot of work to keep himself so wound up and he didn’t remember the last time he really relaxed. He thought about lecturing her, but when had that ever worked? Even making her feel guilty just dug this hole deeper.
“Lucky there wasn’t any significant brain damage.” He said after a moment, looking back over at her frame. “Shouldn’t have to stay here long.” Adam was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice was empty and tired. So very hollow and ghostly, like a crisis center phone operator who was just standing in for the real thing.
“No, you don’t, you don’t want me to get better. You feel like you have to want that.” She knew that tone. MK recognized that tone from the many times he’d tried to sound removed or distant or uncaring or unhurt. The tone of an emotional robot attempting to remove anything that let him feel. She frowned, but of course he didn’t see that, and she rubbed at her eyes to stave off a flow of tears. She had pretty much lost count of how often they had ended up like this: she in tears over something and Adam trying his best to keep his cool. He nauseated her when he was like this -- cold, almost calculating, and trying not to feel. More than anything, she hated that. She could deal with anger, in theory, or sadness, but the robotics of Adam Waterhouse drove her insane, more insane than she drove herself.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been making it easy. They think I’m crazy you know. They might just tuck me away into a padded room and throw away the key, which would be easier for everyone, right? Easier for you.” Her shoulders tensed again before relaxing as if she’d given up. She went quiet for a moment as she caught her breath, as this was more she had used her brain or her lungs in days. “You weren’t real concerned with brain damage that night. At Stark’s. You just left.” Look, Adam, she could sound hollow, too. She rubbed her arm hard to rid herself the jitters that withdrawal was giving her.
“Would be easier.” He agreed with a shrug, giving her a blank look like he wasn’t sure what kind of point she was trying to make. Was she trying to drum up sympathy from him? When did that ever work? “Easier for everyone, even you. Constant supply of medication. Won’t ever have to feel a thing again. Boring, perhaps, but will be so drugged out doubt you’ll notice.” And, there was the blossoming resentment lurking behind the metallic coldness. Hurt that he pinned on her because if she had just tried to get better, none of this would have happened. Yes, he loved her. But, it wasn’t the kind he imagined when he first said those words to her. He thought I love you was the end of all this struggle instead of something that would drag it out.
Adam inhaled with surprise, the most human thing he had done since he sat down and moved closer to the bed. Did she remember what happened? Did she read the journals? Did Sam say something? Sam, who had been the catalyst for so much already? “You were the one who decided to use and then play with the Venom suit. That suit is more-” He stopped himself from telling her that it was more important, but not quickly enough. “Suit is dangerous. Knew other would take care of you. Young. Obsessed with Venom. Overtaken by it, clearly. Without it, you were my first priority.”
MK finally glanced over her and looked over at him through the corner of her eyes. She looked terrible. Pale, thin, skin bruised purple underneath her eyes, and green eyes sluggish. The ghost of a woman he’d grown to love all those months ago, and so many fingers could be pointed in so many different directions that it made MK dizzy to even contemplate. “Then why don’t you get me committed,” she snarled, low and dangerous, but more pissed off cat than raging monster as she looked away again. The redhead couldn’t actually do anything to him, or to anyone. Her little stunt the day before proved as much. They wouldn’t even let her waste away and die, and fuck that noise. Let her destroy herself if she wanted. She scratched at her skin again, rubbed it until the pale white flamed red and puffy. If she could get a tiny fix, it would be okay. She could deal with Adam being a bastard.
She smirked at that noise, proud that she’d broken through the beeps and steel and calculated robotics. “Oh, you didn’t think I’d find out, huh?” No, she hadn’t read the journals yet, but she had thought of it, and now that he confirmed that it actually did happen, she probably would. As he continued to speak, his words knocked the wind out of her though. More important. She was smart enough, alert enough to finish that goddamn thought, and she rolled her entire body towards Adam. “But, with it, you just step over my maybe dead body and fucking leave. I don’t care if I had a doctor right there, you should have stayed. But, you fucking tossed me off to Sam and what, your brother? Are you fucking kidding me.” The heart monitor beeped a little louder, and she glanced up at the little icon that said her heart-rate had begun to race again. Whatever, fuck it, maybe she would have a heart-attack and not have to deal with any of this.
Adam had built up a tolerance for the bile she could spit at him and even as she turned and started to throw a fit, he did everything in his power to not react. He barely moved from the chair, turning to face her as the monitor beeped with concern and she tried to hit him with guilt he had already buried. “Venom suit a priority. Can’t keep saving you from yourself.” And, that slipped out before he could stop it. A look of regret swept over his face, but it was quickly replaced by blankness. He meant what he said, even if a part of him wanted to find a way to just make her feel better instead of face the ugly truth about what they had turned into.
“Which is why we’re going to work on all of this. Heal. Rehab will help.” Adam’s brow finally knitted with concern. A tiny gesture that looked so minuscule to her heart pounding anger. “Admit I wasn’t thinking clearly in New York. Could have handled it better. But, here now. Still here. Trying to help.” He shifted a little closer to her, closer to the angry storm instead of backing off. Adam knew that she wouldn’t tell him to leave or push him away. She’d be furious at him and say things that cut deep, but she’d never want distance.
Her green eyes went wide and watery with hurt, and she hated him so much in that moment. How dare he. Her lip wibbled, but she bit down hard enough to let it bleed. “So, saving some goddamn suit was more important than making sure I was okay or even just alive. It’s okay, I get it, don’t worry. Knowing some fucked up goo outranks me really makes me want to get better. Yeah, sure. Great.” MK reached up to tug against that braid again, tug hard enough to create a sharp pain in the back of her head. The only sort of thing close to a fix that she could get right now. A pain, something to distract her. She looked at him with accusing eyes and dug her fingernails into her arm as she wrapped a hug around herself. “You’re just here because you’re guilty. Obviously. You’re too selfish. You’re selfish.” But, she didn’t balk as he scooted closer, and actually scooted closer herself. Hungry for him, no matter what. No matter how selfish or hurtful he could be, she still loved him. Even to her own detriment.
Adam’s hand reached the edge of the bed. Her anger visibly confounded him, eyebrows raised as she yelled. “Knew you weren’t dead. Had other people to take care of you.” Then, rolling his palms up in an almost-shrug. “If dead, nothing I could do about it.” Adam understood that telling her the truth would just make things worse, but the after effects of New York made it hard for him to care enough to filter himself. She had chosen to treat her time as a teenager as a last chance to get high. She touched the suit even though she knew how dangerous it was. But, no. He couldn’t fire back at her. The less emotions she dragged out of him, the better.
“Selfish. Yes. Not here because of guilt. Don’t feel guilty about what you do to yourself anymore.” He kept his eyes on her, watching the tug at her braid. “Don’t want to be here. Want to be alone with my work and my volunteering. But, care about you. Promised I’d stay and help you if you want me to.”
She let her hand fall down on the bed, but kept her fingers at a distance from his hand. She had no desire in that moment to let him know how much she actually wanted or needed him, even when it was glaringly obvious. Even when he could see it in her bloodshot green eye and in the way her body tensed and relaxed and tensed again as he edged closer. Her nails left scratches down her arms, nothing like the pink marks on her arms but enough to assuage the need for pain. “But I didn’t want other people to take care of me. Don’t you get that? I need you, Adam. I need--.” A loud sob cut her off, and she screwed her eyes shut before digging her face into her pillow. Shoulders shaking, MK melted into an ugly round of sobs, and as she gasped for breath, she felt lightheaded.
“I want you to, I want you to. I just--I don’t want you to hate me. You can’t hate me, Adam. I need you, and I love you, and I can’t have you hating me because then there’s no point to anything at all.” The words tumbled out before she could help it, muffled by the pillow but still bleeding with heartache and devastation. If he hated her? Well, then there wasn’t really a reason to live for her. In her eyes, Adam was all she had left anymore.
Adam sat up a little straighter when she started sobbing and pleading with him even after everything he had said. After everything that happened in New York. He wanted to be stronger than her, strong enough to keep her at arm’s length and keep his feelings for her out of the recovery process. It’d be easier, once she was better (or if she failed) and figured out how unhealthy they were for each other. Something everyone else saw, but allowed because she needed him. And, he kept coming back. He slipped his hand in hers, fingers resting over her palm tightly.
“Love you, too.” He assured her, tightening his grip around her hand. “Hate you, sometimes. Hate that we let it get here somehow. Don’t understand what we did to get here.” Adam leaned closer, those stiff movements falling by the wayside long enough for him to pull the chair right up against the bed. “So, going to get better. Yes? Going to stick around and support you so that you do.”
MK couldn’t forgo those emotions, couldn’t bury them deep like Adam attempted to. They simmered to the surface and bled into her words, seeped into every single inch of her frame, and she desperately wished that she could go back to a time before she let herself really feel much of anything at all. Before Las Vegas, before Seattle. When she could smile and pretend everything was okay because it was easier to burrow away from her problems. Now? She felt like she couldn’t breathe without something going wrong or someone she loved leaving her again. But, here was Adam squeezing her hand tight and promising to be by her side.
Her fingers tangled with his, and she squeezed back just as tightly, nails digging into the back of his hand. Conveying that hungry desperation for him that she couldn’t put into words even through her pleading. The sobs calmed, leaving a wake of tears streaming down her cheeks, and she managed to choke out, “I don’t know either.” How had they let it get this far? After a chaotic year, they’d just crumbled under the pressure, while people like Luke and Wren manage to wake through the flames like phoenixes. She’d appease him, though, and try to fix whatever everyone thought was wrong. “I’ll try,” she promised, comforted by his promise to stick with her. “I promise I’ll try.”
Adam felt nearly resentful of Luke and Wren, too. They were both trying so hard to keep Adam and MK together and in one piece, but the way the two of them managed to work through everything seemed unfair. He didn’t know the right combination to making a relationship work and couldn’t stop holding onto hope that one day it would be easy. Easier than how their best friends made it look. And, Adam didn’t know how much longer he could hold onto something that was an all consuming daily struggle. For now, though? All the could do was try. “Good.” He said with a tiny smile, thin and too tired to be boyish like it used to be.
He glanced up at the clock. “Have a couple hours. Stay here and read to you? Not comics, don’t worry.” Adam moved to pull a couple different books out from under her bed that he kept there for her when she woke up. Some of them were simply travel books about different countries, others were detective stories about women who could speak to their cats. Easy things that didn’t care if you fell asleep through parts of it.
MK almost missed the time when she and Adam still danced around actually being together. When their feelings were still new, and things were still okay and fresh and healing instead of hurtful. Yes, they still had their issues, but being together hadn’t been one of them, yet. The needling borderline obsession with him hadn’t settled in her brain and coursed through to her bones yet. But, if she could convince him to stay for good, things would be better. They would have to be, or else there was no hope of anything else working out. Or, for MK, any point.
She cracked her first smile in days, the twitch of her chapped, formerly red lips across her face for a split-second. It felt a little strange on her face, awkward and jilting and shaky, but it was there. Having him all for herself, at least for a few hours, let the tension loosen in her chest, unravel like a ball of yarn. She used her free hand to wipe at her eyes before she tugged at his hand. Weakly, at first, then harder. “In bed? Come and read to me in bed. For a little while.” She shifted back to give him enough space, pulling lightly at his hand again, and she flashed him another ghost of a smile. “You can choose what you want to read.” And then, an actual smile. “I remember when we were reading those comics together in bed. Do you remember that? It feels like forever ago. I miss that.” I miss us hung on the words, dripping in the air, and she pulled at his fingers again to rid themselves of that tension.
Adam gave her a look, chin tilted down a little like she was proposing something that was strictly against hospital rules and then grabbed the book about Italy and crawled on the bed next to her like a lanky child. At first he didn’t like being so close to her, that familiar scent of her skin overpowering the sanitized hospital, the warmth she radiated suddenly making him feel clammy and uncomfortable, but he settled into it. One long, skinny arm stretching under her shoulder so she could curl into him if she wanted. What was so wrong about acting like there wasn’t a storm raging around them for a couple hours? This moment would be insignificant in the face of everything else they had been through, so why not just fall into it for a little while?
“Miss it, too.” He said with a nod and a sad little smile. He tried not to think about how the quiet life that he needed wasn’t enough for her. That even though she liked taking little breaks with him away from the limelight, it’d never be the right thing for her. It was a dark, festering fear that had been set in him since this all started. But, no. He’d focus on whatever this book had to say about Italy. He’d point at the pictures and turn his nose just enough that he could smell her red hair so that she couldn’t tell. And, then he’d wait for her to fall back asleep so he could settle into his routine.