a chained heart

1 | a kept promise

"We're gonna be okay?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

The doctor's words rang through Adam's ears for what seemed like days but was probably just a few hours—and it fucking hurt. He plugged his ears in attempt to stop the voices inside his head but they only grew louder, bouncing off his temples and driving him to the brink of insanity.

"No, calm down," Adam said to himself in his mind. "He promised he wouldn't lie to you, he's coming back."

Adam lied down on the floor and tried to put his focus on the cold sensation of the tiles, anything to stop thinking about the fact that he was probably going to die in there—alone.

The bathroom floor sent shivers up his arms and not due to the temperature he was trying to focus on, but because of the sticky sensation of Zep's blood pooling across the room and seeping under Adam's skin. He tried to ignore the fact that he'd killed a man because he most likely wouldn't have to live with himself very long.

A low rumbling sound echoed off the porcelain walls, frightening Adam until he realized it was just his stomach scolding him for the lack of food. He clutched at his sides as if he could shut it up and in return ignore the hunger pains shooting through his entire body. He thought that even if he weren't chained to the floor, he still wouldn't be able to move due to the aches coursing through him.

Despite the shivering and clattering of Adam's teeth, a layer of sweat was building up over his body. Either that or the pool of blood was growing. Probably both. The two body fluids mixed together creating a putrid scent that tickled Adam's nostrils in a foul way. Bile rose in his throat and he rolled over onto his side to let it out.

Flipping over onto his back again, he lifted his head slightly off the floor and let it fall back weakly a second later. Adam covered his face with his hands in defeat and let out a groan.

He quickly opened his eyes because every time he closed them all he could see were his bloody hands tearing at Lawrence's shirt as he left him. All he could hear was his promise to bring back help. But every time Adam glanced up at the clock on the wall, his faith in that promise diminished more and more.

It was most probable that Lawrence was dead right on the other side of the door. Just the thought of that caused more nausea to roll through his stomach. Adam couldn't stand to be in there any longer. The silence. The stench. The loneliness. He couldn't handle it anymore. Using the little strength he didn't know he had left in him, Adam sat up.

On his side, he caught sight of the saw that was still intact. His eyes darted back and forth from the blade to his ankle. The little imaginary devil on Adam's shoulder protested the idea immediately, "No. No way you can't do that."

Adam ignored this and before he knew it, he was already holding the spiked metal up to his skin. His hands were clammy and shaky as he gripped the handle with white knuckles. Each jagged edge lightly indented his skin, tickling his ankle as he hesitated to move. Adam squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath as he willed his arms to move on their own—but they didn't.

Letting out the breath he was holding and opening his eyes, he threw the saw across the room in defeat. It clattered on the tiles and landed on the other end of the room, the blade dislodging from the handle. "Now there is no way out of here. Way to go Adam," he scoffed to himself.

He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Adam scolded himself for not being brave and strong like Lawrence was. Lawrence. Goddamnit. He needed to put him out of his head but he found it to be impossible. The flip of his blonde hair. His low voice that calmed him. His reassuring comments that somehow worked even in that bathroom. His logic that combated against Adam's smart-ass qualities to make an undeniable chemistry.