Matt always hated being in hospitals, whether it was to visit someone or it was him who was in the bed.
This time, it was Adam.
His best friend, the one who he had slowly but surely fallen in love with, the one who had told him he felt the same.
Adam's chest rose and fell slowly, heart rate monitor beeping. The blips were smaller than what should be normal.
Matt had been cursing himself for not knowing, not seeing it. He, of all people, was the best at putting his feelings into song. He should've recognized it right away, as soon as he'd heard it. But instead he thought it was just another song without meaning.
He'd thought all of the signs were songs without meaning, and he cursed himself for that.
As soon as Adam's songs got dark he should've known. As soon as they had drifted away from the dreaminess, from the reason many had fallen in love with the music.
Adam had always been good at smiling for people, for showing them he was really okay when he was having a bad day. But those bad days had turned into bad weeks, bad months, bad years, and Matt cursed himself again for not realizing it.
No wonder Adam had been wearing long sleeves in the hot weather, no wonder he had been immersing himself in songs that he wouldn't show anyone. Matt had songs like that, songs so full of pain that he didn't have the heart to show anyone.
Maybe the hate from people who had once loved him had driven Adam to the edge. Matt didn't know. Nobody but Adam knew.
Blood transfusions had been needed as soon as Adam had been brought to the hospital, and he still needed more. He'd need new things, things not stained with blood...
Matt held Adam's hand loosely, trying not to look at the bandages on his wrists. Trying not to think of how he had found him. Blood soaking into the sheets around Adam, wrists slashed, razor blade still in his hand.
But Adam would pull through.
He had to.
