Adam Samuels (adamsammy) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2013-03-14 21:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | adam, adam and ryan, day thirteen, ryan |
Take a Swing
Characters: Adam and Ryan
Setting: Cafeteria, midday
Surprisingly enough, Adam had slept, really slept, close to Kyle. He was feeling slightly better, not tense because of the nightmares, but he was still tense for other reasons.
Guilt.
There was a lot of guilt there. Guilt over Kyle. Over Wren. The guilt he wasn’t supposed to be feeling about Becka. All of it. It made his sandwich eating slow. He leaned against a table looking at where the bar had been, thinking that he needed to go to work tonight, open up the bar and see if anyone wanted to come drink. Hopefully they did because he did kind of want to drink himself.
Ryan was raiding the plates of sandwich meats that Carmel had laid out for the general luncheon of everyone involved. There was also potato salad, a different sort than last time that made him grin a bit, remembering his home. Not that he missed it really, he rarely missed such things, but the comforts it had provided were something he had enjoyed and would rather have back. He grabbed several plates and started loading up a couple. It wouldn't harm him any to bring food down to the infirmary in 'thanks' for the things they had done for Susanna. Cal had good standing, being the doctor, and the nurses were all pretty. He might even see Becka if he were very lucky.
And if they didn't want them, well, the gesture should go a long way, and he was good at doing such things and keeping under the water, or at least he used to be.
He smiled politely at Adam. "How's it going?" he asked casually.
Adam was stuck in his own mind. He was playing things over, the conversations with Kyle, the way Kyle didn’t react to his small, yet truthful, request for Kyle to think about things. To consider it. Okay, maybe he could have been more obvious. More straightforward. But thinking something, feeling something, that was one thing. Saying the same thing, that was nearly impossible. Then there was Wren. And everything about her, how badly he’d messed that up, because even if Kyle didn’t say one way or another about it before Adam went back to his room after his nap, Adam had an itching feeling he had. He couldn’t even go back and read the messages.
How had kissing him come up? When was that on the table? He really needed to talk to Wren, but wasn’t at all sure what he could or should say.
The only relief from all of it was that it kept his thoughts off Becka. Off what happened to her and how he wished he hadn’t screwed that up so that she would have been safe that night.
The voice jolted him out of his thoughts, head snapping towards it, only to see the last person who he wanted to speak with, possibly ever, standing there. Ryan. Who’d been in Becka’s room. Who’d scared Wren. Who was...not exactly scrawny. Without a thought to his actions, Adam squared his shoulders a little more, feeling hidden under his too-big shirt and not just because it wasn’t a good look for him. His entire body was instantly on guard, without good reason other than sheer paranoia that he hadn’t actually experienced since prison. “Fine,” he said, voice hesitant as if surprised and expecting something else from this guy.
Ryan raised his eyebrows at the body language of the other man. For a simple greeting, he was already getting more of a reaction than he thought he would. Most people would just answer, but there almost
seemed to be aggression in his stance. "Well, that's good then," he drawled almost mildly, wondering if his tone would soothe or provoke. Right now, he supposed he didn't much care, other than he was supposed to be careful.
And it left Adam at a loss. He didn’t like this guy, he didn’t want to like this guy who scared his friends, but the answer was so off-putting that he was left staring, losing some of the aggression in his body language. “Uh yeah?” he asked, not sure what else he was supposed to say to that. Maybe he just wasn’t supposed to answer, but it was too late now.
Ryan's lips twitch, and the urge to mess with this odd guy's head was almost undeniable. "Well, yes," he said, the 'duh' implied rather than voiced. "I mean, if it was bad, that would be bad," he said, slathering a piece of bread up with mayo and such before starting to stack the meat up to make a nice, thick sandwich. Several of these would do it for what he wanted, he hoped.
Rolling his eyes Adam went back to looking away. “No shit,” he said, half grumbled. “Better than the stocks.” Which was probably low, but hey, that’s how he knew the guy.
Ryan's lips tightened slightly, not appreciating the reference at all. He turned the full weight of his stare for a moment, assessing and then dismissing the other boy coolly. Becka really did have horrible taste, he thought. "Shit happens, can't help that the administration is stupid," he said dismissively.
“That’s what you’re going with?” Adam asked, looking around surprised. “The administration is stupid? Not ‘I deserved it’?” That was just stupid.
His glance was once again dismissive. "I did a stupid thing, but I don't think it deserved being thrown into the medieval monstrosities like the stocks," he said, flicking his fingers slightly. "And they are stupid, if you haven't been able to perceive it. They take people away for no real reason that they give us, at least one by taser. Do you really expect me to trust them or think their judgment sound after all that?" His tone cast aspersions on Adam's thought processes.
“Maybe I am medieval then, because it didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time. Especially if you did something wrong.” Adam was holding his ground on that one. “Plus, it could have been worse. They could have just told the other inmates what you did and let them have their way with you.” All prison terms, which he’d tried not to use since he’d arrived, but it was unavoidable. “Doesn’t matter what I think of their judgement. I’m not calling the shots.”
"Stocks for a small offense is a little over the wall," Ryan said, not liking this boy at wall. Honestly, what did Becka see in him? Not that he had high thoughts of her judgment, but this conversation was definitely making him wonder quite a bit. "What, I went into a room to check on someone, looked around a little? Oooooh, what're people going to do to me for that?" he said sarcastically, setting down what he was doing to wiggle his fingers, acting faux-frightened, mocking the implied threat. "I apologized and gave my explanations, and they were accepted. I shan't be doing it again, and I don't need to explain anything to you, anyway," he said bluntly, going back to his self-appointed task.
That boiled the blood in Adam’s veins. Not what Ryan did, or what he said about the administration. The complete and under disregard for the fact that he’d overstepped his bounds. That he’d been somewhere shouldn’t have been. Whatever he was doing was forgotten, and he was crossing the space between them, pushing at Ryan to get him to look at him again. You went into more than one room, and for the record I don’t believe you were there to check on anyone. No one wanted you to check on them. You scared both of them with your bullshit and your stupid smile.” And maybe it wasn’t like Adam to be forward, but this was Wren who’d been scared. Who Adam had talked off a ledge and pulled her into his room to sleep for the night because she hadn’t felt safe. And then Becka, Becka who had to go through horror because some asshole had snuck into her room at night. Why wasn’t that bastard in the stocks? Or strung up from the roof or from the trees in the farm? It was enough to send Adam’s protective streak into overdrive, giving him a physical confidence he didn’t usually have.
Ryan's eyes glinted dangerously, and though he didn't look like much, in general, he was much stronger than he looked. His voice grew low and threatening. "Get your fucking hands off me right now," he said in a flat tone, though he longed to simply punch the idiot out and leave it at that. "I haven't had nearly enough sleep lately to deal with your bull shit. I apologized, and pardon me, none of it fucking involves you, for all you make girls give you big cow's eyes and get drunk over you," he said lowly, shrugging the hand off with that same dangerous glint in his eyes. He would try to explain more, but he wasn't in the mood to be defensive and make words at this guy. He deliberately nudged Adam aside and turned to make his sandwiches again, though he wasn't so stupid as to not keep his eyes and his attention on Adam, even if he didn't truly regard the man as a threat.
Ryan wasn’t the only one who was stronger than he looked and the shove he gave wasn’t an entirely weak thing. “Just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he demanded. As far as sleep was concerned, Adam was the least sympathetic. He mostly functioned almost no sleep.
"Oh, what, me finding Becka drunk and lamenting that you and she were having some kind of issues, and I had to escort her to her room and make sure she was all right? Yeah, way to go on that one," he said in a scathing tone, pushing Adam hard back, his eyes definitely hard and dangerous now. "Keep your fucking hands off, that's the last time I'm going to tell you," he said loudly, clearly warning him and hoping someone else might be around to hear it.
That Adam didn’t know about. And he had no idea when it had happened, but at some point, Becka had done this. And this guy had gone and done just what Adam had hoped wouldn’t happen. He might have stumbled back, but caught himself and jump forward again, voice low and angry as he grabbed Ryan’s shirt and made a point of really shoving him, making his goal to get the other man off balance. “You keep your fucking hands off her.”
"I didn't have my hands on her!" Ryan said, stumbling slightly. He wasn't caught off guard, not really, but damn was he pissed off now, and he was not in the mood for this little prick to be getting in
his face. His knee came up, his instinct to hurt and put down someone attacking him strong, and then his arms burst up, breaking the grip on his shirt as he shoved the man back, snarling lowly.
What Ryan wanted, his knee connecting hard with Adam, who’s grip was loosening before Ryan really managed to shove him away. He wasn’t going to win this. That was never in his mind. He didn’t win fights. But the anger and the guilt, they were riding too close to the surface for him not to react and lash out again. “Not once!? Not when you had her alone? Not when the lights went out?” There was no good reason to connect the two situations, but Adam’s mind fired it off and he was yelling it without thinking about it. This time when he lunged he dropped his shoulder, aiming for Ryan’s middle, thinking he’d have more luck trying to knock him over properly than actually throwing a punch. “You stay the fuck away from her!”
"I tucked her in and left her water and left her be, you nutter!" Ryan replied loudly. His expression was not just hostile but dangerous, but he was also the one notably not closing the distance to keep this up,
though it took a lot of self control, as the hands fisted at his sides would attest to to any passersby. "Why would I, she's over the moon about you!" It was just as easy to lie when he was like this than any other time. "I'm not going near her!" he said, taking a firmer stance and taking a football block position, checking him with his own shoulder and then turning, letting him sprawl on past him, leaving his leg out to conveniently trip over.
The moved worked perfectly and the only thing that kept Adam from hurting himself more was probably the time he spent in prison being tossed around and learning how to fall without breaking his arm. There’d be a great bruise on his hip from where he slammed into the table on the way down, leaving it shaking, but otherwise he was mostly fine. Ryan’s words took the air out of his lungs, not at all sure what to make of what was being said. Becka? Over the moon about him? Still? That couldn’t be right. He scrambled to his feet and moved back into Ryan’s personal space. “She’s the one that broke up with me you ass.” Mostly. Actually who did the breaking up was still fuzzy in his mind, but he knew it wasn’t all him. “And someone hurt her, which I won’t let happen again. You stay the hell away from her and Wren.”
Ryan's eyes skimmed over Adam scathingly. "Good for her. She does have sense, then," he said coolly. His eyes glinted again, and he punctuated his words with small, hard shoves to push Adam continuously away from him. He was not gentle at all. "You can't tell me what to do, asshole," he hissed. "If I want to visit with a potential friend, I will. You have no say in who she associates with," he said, jaw
clenched.
If the insult had come from anyone else, at any other time, Adam might have just agreed with it. It did make sense for Becka to not be with him anymore, they weren’t suited for one another. But coming from this jerk it was not okay. And maybe he was right about Adam not being able to dictate who Ryan hung out with, but that was motivation enough to take the first swing, pushing back against one of the painful shoves and aiming in a right hook towards Ryan’s cheek.
The punch slipped through his normally good defense, possibly because he'd been trying not to just let himself loose and whale on this guy until he couldn't get up ever again. He stumbled back and snarled, spitting out a mouthful of blood where his teeth cut his cheek. "That's it, you little pissant," he snarled, lunging forward, intent on doing some actual damage now. His fists struck out, hard and
unmerciful, as he hit Adam several times. "I told you to stop. Fucking. Touching. Me."
Not quite how Adam really saw things going, but he supposed, after Ryan’s first hit connected with his cheek,” it was how he should have guessed it was going. The first few punches met their mark, seeing to it that his face would be bruised and leaving his lip bleeding from where it split. After that, defensive reflexes that had saved his life in prison kicked in and his arms went up to shield his face. He wasn’t thinking about it, just moving as he feet stumbled him back enough to get out of Ryan’s reach, and a well timed duck got him off to Ryan’s side. He should be hitting back, but at this point, he was lucky the guy wasn’t actually on top of him. “Fine!” he barely managed. “But you stay away from her.” There was a threatening tone to his voice, but he was pretty sure after that, it rang hollow.
Once the arms were up, he struck for the torso, where he preferred anyway. Face was visible, but torso could hurt. He let Adam back away, though his fists stayed clenched and he wanted to just keep on hitting the man. Little idiot. "I'll do whatever the hell I want. You aren't the law, and you sure as hell best be capable of keeping your threats if you're going to make them," he said, wiping his fist across his lip and glowering more darkly as it came away bloody. He wondered if that lucky punch would leave him with a black eye.
Anyone else would be doubled over in pain, but Adam had learned a long time ago to keep his mouth shut and suffer. The most he showed was one arm around his middle where Ryan got his shots in, but he swallowed the pain and held his ground, smiling darkly, something almost ghastly with the blood from his lip. “You aren’t completely untouchable,” he said nodding towards the blood on Ryan’s hand. It was that dark humor surfacing, but even as he said it he knew to step back again, more out of reach.
"Lucky shot," Ryan shot back, "And nothing major." He swallowed a mouthful of blood, though, seething that he had to bother to do so. He stepped forward, not caring that he was the aggressor now. "If you think a paltry thing like this'll phase me, you have another thing coming."
“I think you’ll remember it,” Adam said, only barely holding his ground this time. He wanted to step back again, but he was back in his usual role, the one being intimidated, not the other way around as he’d been for a moment. “Because lucky doesn’t matter if it makes contact.”
Ryan balled his fist tighter and slammed it into Adam's stomach, growling. "Bet you can't do it again," he whispered in Adam's ear, low and menacing, before shoving his shoulder to send him reeling back.
This time the noise that Adam let out couldn’t be contained, something low and more guttural. That hurt like holy hell. Being pushed back was a relief even if he stumbled until he caught one hand on a nearby table, barely steadying himself with the other wrapped around his stomach again. “We’ll see,” he managed before moving back again. He wasn’t going to pull it off again now, but some other time? Maybe then.
Ryan sneered at him as he backed off. "Famous last words," he scoffed harshly, wanting nothing more than to take the tray the meats were on and upend it and dash the thing across Adam's back and face. "You lay your hands on me again, and you will regret it." Much more than this beating, which was nothing compared to what he could lay down when he allowed himself to.
“Trust me asshole,” Adam said, shaking his head. “I’ve had so much worse.” He took another step back, eyes on Ryan and he made his way back towards the door. There wasn’t a point in sticking around. Not when it was just asking for another attack.
And he'd get much, much worse if he ever approached him like that again, Ryan thought darkly, his eyes still glittering dangerously. "Keep going, coward," he said, wishing the man would turn around again. He wanted to pound him with every fiber of his being. He would have to report this, though, to keep the little asshole from accusing him of attacking.
Adam knew better than to turn his back on Ryan, and he didn’t even really breathe until he’d made it out of the cafeteria. Then he stopped, leaning on the wall between that door and the kitchen, holding his side and wincing in pain. That had been stupid and it hadn’t even gotten him anywhere. For a few seconds he fought back the tears stinging in his eyes, blaming it on the pain and nothing else, before stumbling towards the kitchen for ice.