Jerome groaned a bit louder when he was dragged into a standing position, as the pain sped through his muscles as if deconstructing them completely, but he was in absolutely no position to complain. He bid his lips, squeezed his eyes and continued making litte noises of pain with his mouth closed when taking his first steps, firmly holding on to Oliver's shoulders, scolding himself internally while still crying silently.
The pain was immensely, and still, Jerome felt as if he deserved every bit of it. For putting Oliver through this absolutely mad plan. For having abandoned his kids. For having to stay here without them.
Having to stay here...
Defeat, and a deep, devastating sadness lingered in the back of his sometimes open, sometimes squinted eyes, trying to come to terms with a truth that was absolutely heart-breaking. He didn't, for the life of him, want to accept any of this, but after this mind-changing experience he was left with no other choices anymore. This was happening. He was stuck here. He didn't... he didn't even had any pictures from them here...
He took a deep breath, still giving his best to walk, and even though he felt like he needed a break badly, kept on walking, forcing himself to function. His vision was blurry, as if he was not wearing his contacts despite wearing them. He needed glasses. Contacts were uncomfortable in the evening, and he didn't feel like using them everyday anyway. Halfway through this thought, he realized bitterly that this was his first sentiment of settling in. In a way, he felt disgusted by it, slightly angry even. But there was absolutely no place in his mind for feeling angry right now.
Jerome nodded thankfully when Oliver accepted his apology, and then this man proceeded to give him a lecture which hadn't happened since he had been a young adult. Eyes closed again, Jerome nodded slightly, this time not to dodge conversation, but because concentrating to elaborately explain that he had understood was really, really hard right now. He perfectly knew what he had done, he perfectly knew that he had put Oliver in danger, too, and he felt horrible for it. "I... acted like an... idiot." was everything he was able to muster as a reply a few seconds after Oliver had stopped talking, but something else had catched his attention. "His" guy?
Jerome wasn't entirely sure he had understood correctly. "Do you... mean b- boyfriend?" The second this word left his lips, he realized how weird this sounded, considering he was talking to a man in his presumably 40ies and not a teenager, but his English vobabulary was restricted.
"Were you... abducted.. together...?" Speaking was still hard, and he groaned again when having to take a step on the sidewalk. In front of them, there was a building, but Jerome was too out of it to identify it as a clothing store. At this point, his hand was basically clawed into Oliver's arm to keep himself on his feet.