Adam Samuels (adamsammy) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2012-11-02 16:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | adam, adam and wren, day seven, wren |
Starting from Square One
Characters: Adam and Wren
Setting: Wren's room, late
Adam had tried the whole being alone, tried shutting out the world, sitting on his bed, waiting for something to happen. He’d even tried sleeping but the storm was determined to keep that away as well. When it got to be too much he wasn’t sure where to go, but he knew his sanity was fraying at the edges.
Kyle didn’t want him, not with everything he had going on already. He wasn’t sure he could look Mazie in the eye right now, and he knew for certain he couldn’t look at Becka. She’d ask and he’d have to lie or answer and neither would be good. That left one person and he barely hesitated as he left his room, locking the door behind him and starting towards her new room.
He was halfway across the courtyard when he realized it was still raining, and raining on him. Despite hurrying to get out of the storm he was dripping a little when he made it to her door, not knocking right away, but fighting it with the need to. He even paced there for a moment, hands running through his short hair before he gave in and knocked on the door.
Wren had been sitting alone, staring at the walls while she listened to music. It was playing very softly, as to not disturb other people. Mostly, she was trying very hard to work out...everything. She felt very much like her world made no sense anymore, not even slightly, and she didn't know where to start even attempting to piece things together.
When the knock came, a wave of anxiety hit, though she didn't hesitate to get up and answer the door. Seeing Adam out there, she felt a flush of relief. "You're wet." she told him, stepping back so he could come inside. She walked to the bathroom to get him a towel.
Adam didn’t quite know what to say at first, sniffling and hating the sound. “It’s raining.” And he was falling apart. That was definitely the term for this. When she left even if it was for a moment he closed the door and wiped at his face, scrubbing away water from the rain. Definitely the rain. He didn’t cry. He hadn’t in years. Even when he was alone.
Wren came back and wrapped the towel around his shoulders, partially over his head. "What's wrong?" she asked, since clearly something was. He didn't look good. He looked a lot like how she felt, so she was assuming 'terrible' was applicable.
“Everything?” Adam asked, wondering if that explained it. For a moment he closed his eyes, then went back to scrubbing his face. “I didn’t...couldn’t...be alone anymore.”
"Okay." Wren said, understanding that. "You can stay here, then." she added, just so he knew he wouldn't have to, period. She moved over to the computer, to tug her chair out for him to sit on. "Tell me about 'everything'." she invited. He didn't think she could help, but she could listen. He'd listened to her, and at the moment, concentrating on issues that weren't her own would be a refreshing break.
He almost didn’t sit, not wanting to get her chair wet, but she was offering to let him stay which was too much and at the same time just what he needed. His elbows hit his knees, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes to try and hold back everything, just so he could talk. “Just...I feel like everything is cracked, like I can’t put it back together again. I told people about...about what happened in prison and I hate thinking about it and some girl died today and all I can think about is that could be me. And it would be me if I had to go back to prison. Like Dominic. If I had to go back I’d rather die.” He sniffed again hating that he felt so close to completely breaking down.
That was not anything Wren wanted to hear. That sounded suspiciously like he would consider suicide, and that struck deep in her heart. She could taste the wine in her mouth, she could see people slumping over. She could picture turning bodies over, searching frantically for Chester.
"Please don't do that." she told him, voice very quiet. A whisper, barely heard over the music. "I would find it very upsetting. Why do you think Caroline's fate could be yours?" she asked, trying to push past her flashing memories of the mass suicide/murder she'd been through.
Adam didn’t think he would. If he was going to he probably would have done it long before now. Shaking his head he managed to look at her. “I wouldn’t. I mean..I won’t.” Not if it would upset her, which seemed silly, but he was clinging to that. “I’m not sure. I haven’t had a chance to process it. I just keep thinking...it could have been me. Or you. Or someone else.” He looked at his hands, then her. “I’m not sure I’m making sense.”
"It's okay." Wren told him. "You don't have to." she added. "But I don't think it could have been anyone. I put her in the stocks. She was shouting when I went to talk to her. Shouting for them to remove her, that she wanted to leave now. Perhaps if I had left her to it, they would have, and things would not have happened they way they did." She still felt guilty. "Beyond that, you've done nothing wrong. You aren't doing anything to hurt anyone, you're doing what you need to. It won't happen to you."
“And maybe she still would have tried to climb the wall.” Adam’s breath hitched in his throat and he had to close his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing but it wasn’t coming. “I feel like I am. I feel like I have. Like I can’t say the right thing, or do the right thing because I don’t even know who I am.”
"Yes." Wren said, confirming his addition to her logic. She listened to the rest of what he had to say, heart going out to him. Again, she was itching to get her cards, see what they told her, what they could tell him. But she resisted. "You said the right things to me." Wren said. Or he had tried to, and that meant enough to her. He had helped, even if it wasn't quite in the way he wanted. "Why don't you know who you are? Who do you feel like?"
“Did I?” he asked, looking at her, hating the way he felt his eyes start to water. Not in front of Wren. She’d see the victim. “I don’t feel like anyone. I haven’t...had a chance to think about it and I’m left with nothing. I don’t even know what I like.” Closing his eyes he fought away the break that was threatening to rip him apart. “Sorry. I’m sort of a mess.”
Wren actually could relate to that. So much so that she drew in a breath, and let it out slowly, looking at him with sympathy. "I know how that feels." she admitted. "I...don't know who I am anymore either. Especially now. I always used to have this...purpose. And I don't have it anymore, and I'm too stupid and out of touch to even know what real life is like out there. I don't know what I like either. I don't even feel like a real person, lately. So, I understand. You, however," she started, shaking her head. "Maybe you just need to close your eyes, and try to cut everything else down to the bone. Just forget everything else, and look in, and see what you see." she suggested lightly.
“You aren’t stupid Wren,” Adam promised. “And the real world sucks. It’s full of liars and terrible people that are nothing like you.” He shook his head, feeling his strength crumbling. “There’s nothing there. Just a broken, stupid guy wishing for more.” His breath hitched again and this time he really couldn’t keep holding back how he was feeling. A large part of him was desperate to flee, to run so she wouldn’t see, but he couldn’t move.
Wren reached for him, but remembered how badly that had worked out last time, so she went and got him some tissues instead, coming back over. She sat down on the floor, so she could look up at him, thinking that might be easiest. "What are you wishing for?" she asked, thinking that was a good place to start. Or the only place to start.
He just barely saw it, her reaching for him and he hated how torn he was about it. He knew he’d flinch and at the same time he wanted it. That made the last of it break, small tears falling. “To take it all back. To go back. So far back.”
Listening to him, she felt an ache in her chest, seeing the deep regret there. "Where would you go back to?" she asked, wishing she had something better. Or that a hug would help. She hated to see people so upset, hated to see anyone cry. And it used to be her calling to help make it stop, to help direct people. It wasn't anymore. She needed to remember that.
Adam had to think about it for a moment and then he knew. “Before I met him. Before I gave in to everything. I’d rather be alone. At least then I didn’t hurt anyone. Or maybe hurt someone. At least there she doesn’t get hurt.” He didn’t fully realize he hadn’t put a name on the face that was filling mind, the friend he’d trusted so implicitly.
Wren kept her eyes on him, seeing the tears, wishing she could be more effectual. But she was doing her best. He'd tried for her, she was going to try for him. "Who is 'him'?" she asked. She didn't have the frame of reference, and felt it was important, considering.
“Jeffrey,” Adam said, seeing his face and hating the way his name sounded in his mouth. “He was my best friend. My first friend. And crazy.” He wiped at his eyes, trying to rid himself of tears that were just replaced with fresh ones.
"How was he crazy? Tell me about him." Wren encouraged, entirely uncertain where this was leading, or how she could help with it. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe, her role was simply to be a sounding board, someone to hear what Adam had to say, to ask the right questions to lead him through it. She could do that.
“He just was.” Adam covered his eyes, sob trying to find its way into his throat and he had to force it back. “He was wonderful. Popular, interesting, fun, cool. Everyone wanted to be him, to be close to him and I was. People knew who I was because of him. I existed.” Which maybe was half because Adam had wanted to exist at that point. Maybe not. “And as we got older he got crazier. They were all crazy, his whole family, but he seemed normal when we were younger. I was wrong. Things got crazy, people started to get hurt or threatened. He was a loose cannon and then....then I don’t know. I wish I remembered.”
One thing was very clear to Wren. Adam had at least at one point defined himself through Jeffery. So that she could see being a point where things fractured. Especially when his friend went off the rails. "Were you Adam? Or Jeffery's friend Adam?" she asked, that thought occurring to her even if she didn't quite know if she worded it right.
Even if she didn’t word it right Adam got it. “They were the same. I was so sure I didn’t exist without him.” And he’d worshiped him. Even when his friend seemed crazy, Adam had still worshiped him. He’d held on to undying hope that something would change.
Quiet as she processed that, Wren drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "You exist without him." she told him, just in case he needed to hear it. "You did then and you do now. He doesn't define you. Or, he doesn't anymore."
Adam wiped more tears away with the back of his hand, looking at her. “I’m starting to figure that out, but I’m not sure what’s left. A lot was taken.” Like parts of his soul, ripped away by Jeffrey, by those that had attacked him in prison, by every punch he’d taken before, every kick, so much of him was missing. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, trying to wipe fresher tears away. “You’re probably not going to see anything more than this mess when you see me again.”
"Don't apologize." Wren told him first. "I don't mind." she added, just so he would know. "But...Adam, you're concentrating on the wrong part." she said, internally ignoring the voice that told her yet again that she had no right to tell him anything, that she was Wrong and had no business saying anything at all about anything. It was too strong an urge to speak to him, to tell him what she saw so clearly.
“I do mind,” Adam said, trying to wipe tears away, but blinking at her more. “What part?” Was he missing something and not even realizing it?
"What's gone is gone. It doesn't matter how much got taken, it doesn't matter what's missing. You're looking at the missing parts and that's why you're not seeing who you are anymore. You have to look at what's left." Wren told him, sitting up a little, getting closer to him as she looked up at him. "You're still here. Maybe you're still bleeding from old wounds, maybe you're still finding your feet, but you're still here. You have to look at that part. Not the negative space."
Adam tried that, tried to think of it in those terms, looking at what was left. “What if there’s not enough Wren? Not enough to be a full person.” Because it didn’t feel like enough.
"There's always enough." Wren said. "Or, there's always enough to start with. Maybe you just need to start. Since you got broken, you haven't started yet. So...if you know you have to now, maybe you can. Start from scratch, take a deep breath, let it out and decide you're going to start figuring yourself out." She hesitated, then went on. "It's what I'm trying to do." she shared. “I learned I like music. A lot of music. And there’s so much of it I’ve never heard, and I like that too.”
If Adam was honest with himself, what she said made sense. He wanted to start over, to find things he liked, or he could like. “I see why you’re so scared,” he told her softly, one hand reaching for hers, wanting that contact, feeling more like he could. “I have never really thought much about music.”
Wren reached out to clasp his hand when he reached for her, figuring it was okay if he was initiating it. It seemed to work that way the other night. So she noted that in mind. If Adam was the one who was reaching, it was okay. Beyond that she needed to keep her distance. She could do that. "It's lovely, and sad, and joyful and beautiful and dark and lonely, and warm..." she told him, giving a little smile. "It's a whole world, it feels like. I listen, and close my eyes, and sometimes I want to dance, and it's all this rush of feeling."
“Now I know I haven’t been thinking about it.” Adam said, almost smiling. He’d never noticed that about it before, but having her hand in his helped quite a bit. It was like he was suddenly grounded, just by something that simple. “Show me.” He sniffed again, but most of the tears were gone and he was fighting off shivering from being wet.
Wren actually lit up at that, a smile lighting her features as she stood up, half using his hand as leverage to get to her feet. She pulled him around in the chair, it spinning for him to face the computer, and she immediately changed the song that was playing, and turned it up a little more. "I love this. I...there's so much in it. I feel like every time I hear it I pick out even more." she told him then fell silent as Florence and the Machine started to play.
Adam wondered if she knew how infectious her smile was, how the moment she was smiling and spinning him he was half smiling too, unable to help himself. When she started the song he was patient, listening to it, not understanding it at first but as the tempo changed he nodded, holding her hand a little tighter. That was good, even if he wasn’t sure he understood it, he did like it. It seemed to resonate in the room, at least a little.
She smiled at him. "Do you hear the harp?" she asked, "And the other voices? And the drums, and...it's like I can feel it." she said, patting her chest above her heart with the hand he was holding, effectively using his to do so. "Like it's got it's own heartbeat, and for just a few moments, I'm part of it." she told him, wondering if she sounded like a crazy person. But she clearly had a passion for music, one she'd so very recently discovered. It was hard for her not to share that, loving getting the chance to share it.
She did, a little, sound like a crazy person, but Adam was okay with that. He liked seeing her care about something, being positive about something, which was a relief from how she’d seemed just the day before. “I don’t even know what a harp sounds like,” he admitted, but nodded to the rest. He could feel the beat, though only after she was giving it to him directly. “Part of it?”
"It's towards the beginning, light notes strung together." Wren explained, even if she wasn't sure how to describe it. Then she nodded. "Part of it. I listen to the words, and I feel things. But the music is part of it too. It isn't just words. Someone put their heart and soul into that song. Maybe a lot of people. And I can hear it in there, feel it when I'm listening to it. I know it sounds strange, to feel music, but that's what it's like for me. I sort of block out everything else, and just concentrate on the song, let it take me wherever it's going to. She says in the song, 'you can't choose what stays and what fades away'. I believe in that. I understand that. As someone who's lost...everything...I understand." And she imagined he could too.
“It’s not strange,” Adam reassured her. “I’ve heard someone say that before, I just never have.” He tried to listen more, tried follow along, but he did like those words. They reminded him of himself. Squeezing her hand again, he pulled at her arm to get her to look at him. “You still have me.”
She smiled at him. "And you've got me." she told him, just to share the sentiment of not being alone. "I think we're probably both messes right now, but maybe that's alright. You helped me. I hope I can help you too." she said. "Maybe we can both figure ourselves out."
Adam thought about it then nodded. It was a good idea, having someone to figure himself out with. Someone who was going through the same thing. “I think you’re probably a better put together mess than I am,” he admitted, giving her a little bit of a smile. “But we can report back on things we find that we like.” He paused for a moment, then glanced back up at her. “You sure you’re okay with me staying here. I just...I’d rather sleep on the floor next to your bed than alone in my room, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
"It's fine." Wren told him honestly. "I don't mind. I understand not wanting to be alone." she added. She had had trouble when she'd first been out of the commune. Difficulty dealing with people in general, of course, but also without having that sense of never being alone. Abruptly she'd learned what it was like to feel utterly abandoned, completely isolated even when around others.
He still held onto her hand, hoping she didn’t mind the contact, while his free hand scrubbed at his face again. Most of the tears were gone, but they were still lingering, just below the surface, and he was worried they’d come out again, probably in his dreams or right before he let sleep take him. “Thanks.” It was soft, barely there, but there nonetheless.
Wren looked at him, and gave his hand a squeeze. "Any time." she told him, just so he would know her door was open to him whenever. She meant it. He was going through a lot. She was. Maybe it really was best to make the attempt to not go through it all alone. Having the support, for the both of them, was probably the best idea. Maybe it would mean less stumbling along the way, especially since they both seemed so blind about the road ahead.
“Do you have anything with a piano?” he asked her, resting his head against her arm, looking at her computer, but not sure what to make of the variety of artists and song names. “I know I like that.” It wasn’t much but he remembered that from before he’d lost track of Adam. It was reassuring to be close to someone, to feel less like he was flying blind through everything and though she’d had her own stumbles, she still wanted him there. As much as he cared about Kyle, liked being close to Kyle, he was more likely to shut Adam out than Wren was.
"Yes." Wren told him, switching the song to one by Tori Amos. It was one of many she knew that had a lot of piano in them by the artist, but this one was a much happier tune, so she put that one on as opposed to her first instinct.
It was more upbeat than he expected, more upbeat than the first song she’d played him and Adam found himself nodding along with it after a few moments. “I like that,” he said, even if he felt like the voice was a contrast to the music. It seemed to fit.
She smiled at him. "I did too. But there's a lot out there. I'm still listening through everything. I'm trying to listen to as much as I can, because so much of it is amazing. And I like all different kinds, it seems. I find merit in a lot of different styles." she explained.
Adam nodded, agreeing with her, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but he felt like agreeing made sense. “Like I said, I never really thought about it. I think my grandmother liked the stuff with the piano, but she listened to older things. Not often but sometimes.”
"I'm sure you could find some of the stuff she listened to. But you should definitely see if you can find some that you like, that isn't from someone else, too." she suggested. "Find your own way, see what speaks to you." she said. "Depending on what that is, it might actually help you figure out a few things about yourself as well."
Adam looked confused, glancing up at her. “Figure out things about me?” he asked, not sure how that worked. He got the part about finding what he liked, but how it was supposed to answer questions moved a little beyond where his mind could get to in its current state.
"Well, if there's heavy themes in the songs that mean something to you, then maybe there's a reason." Wren told him. "Or maybe not, and you just like the music just because. I'm just saying it's possible that you might find you like songs because of what they're talking about in it."
Adam considered that then nodded. “No I guess that makes sense. I just never thought of it that way. Maybe you keep playing what you like? I might find something similar that I like.” It would be good to find things he wanted to listen to. He’d tried, going through the playlists on his computer, but nothing had jumped out at him, and if anyone asked, he couldn’t have put artists or titles to the music he’d listened to for the few years before prison. It was just background, songs that might mean something if he heard them again, but nothing that wasn’t just a song rather than something more.
Wren smiled then settled in to start going through music with Adam. She had a lot of songs she thought she wanted to play for him, and they had all night. So, he wouldn't have to be alone, she could possibly help him find something to spark interest in, and she didn't have to think about her own circumstances either. All things considered, it could be a much worse way to spend the evening.