Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ All I Have ❯ Missing ( Chapter 15 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

: Missing :

Adam awoke slowly to the sound of a struggle. Disorientation, ringing ears and uncomfortable chest pain caught his immediate attention. It was dark, dank and the sounds, as he grew more clear-headed, was that of a man in pain. Sluggishly he pushed himself up to his knees, struggling to peer around himself and finding that he was completely unable to see in the dark. He reached up for his goggles, and frowned at the odd feel. Pulling them off his helmet, he realized that they'd been melted, his helmet in disrepair as well. He pulled his ear piece out, which was connected to his helmet, and tossed that aside, wearily running a hand through his sweaty hair. His chest felt as if something were pressing against it, and it hurt to inhale. He winced and breathed slowly, testing the pressure there, and finding it painful.

Discomforted with the sensation of lost time and without familiar contact of his team, Adam reached for his flashlight, a small clip-on tucked within one of the pockets of his shirt behind his vest. After he'd clipped that into place, he saw that they were in a narrow corridor of sorts. The floor was thick with dirt but he could see glimpses of tile underneath. The walls were made of brick and cement, the scuffling of rats prominent. The eerie silence made him shiver, and he rose to see that the room they'd taken safe haven in was completely caved in with debris. The door spilled outward in a crumpled mess, glass shards, metal and brick lying in haphazard mess around them.

He reached back and found that his spare pistol was still tucked in its holster underneath his pack. He pulled that out and activated the safety mechanism before continuing his scan. Down the tunnel the hall extended, too dark for him to see beyond that point. He looked down at Andy, seeing that he was clutching his right shin, and the sounds of pain were from him. Startled into reaction now that he was aware of his surroundings, Adam dropped to a knee beside him, using his flashlight to examine the area and reholstering the pistol.

He nearly vomited, his weak stomach protesting the sight of bone protruding from pants and skin.

“How'd that happen?” he asked, looking at the wall, even as he maneuvered the flashlight over Andy's leg, as if something could happen by the very action.

“You landed on me, you oversized giant,” Andy answered hoarsely. “I need your FMB. And a flare.”

“My…my what?” Adam asked, struggling with his pack and removing it from around his shoulders.

“Your field medical bag! Hurry up!”

Adam found that, activating the flare and setting that aside, the entire aglow in bright red. He gave the FMB to Andy, watching him jerk out the items he needed.

“Just in case I pass out, use this. Just a whiff or two will force me back to consciousness,” Andy said, holding up a small tube in his direction. “I will only use fifty percent of your med-pack.”

“Why not all of it?” Adam asked impatiently, picking up the rounded pack, which resembled a blackened sponge tightly sealed within plastic. It guaranteed a chance for a mortally wounded person to make it to some form of hospital for better attention. Temporary as it was, it granted the ability to patch and mend serious injuries, such as broken bones and bullet holes.

“Because you're still in uniform, and I need you serviceable. So if something happens, I can save you rather than me. We need to get out of here.”

Adam set the medpack aside. “My communication is out. They shot out Larson and Kurt before the attack began. Helmet's fucked up, anyway.”

“You don't have a cellphone?”

“No. Don't bring that out with me on the field.”

He noticed that Andy's hands were shaking, barely able to do what he needed as he struggled to cut through his pants leg with the small scissors he'd taken from the FMB. Adam felt dizzy just realizing that the bone protrusion was right there, in plain sight. At the sight of stretched skin, spurting blood and the visible torn tendons, his stomach protested, his throat tightened, and he swallowed again, grimacing at the burn of bile. His face started to grow hot and cold, ears ringing.

Andy used the scissors to stab his leg, and though it didn't hurt, the concept that it had occurred snapped Adam out of his daze. “Do not faint on me, dammit. I need your hands.”

“Why?” Adam asked. “And I'm not `fainting'.”

“Like I haven't seen that look before,” Andy replied, but even as he was grimacing with pain, speaking hoarsely with effort, there was a twinkle of amusement to his eyes.

Adam looked as he ripped the material of his pants up over his knee, exposing the bone that stood out like an accusing monstrosity. He leaned to the side and spit into the floor, stomach heaving as Andy quickly staunched the blood flow with one of the ties from the kit, fingers stained. The smell of blood was stronger, and when Adam looked again, saw it staining the floor and Andy's previously wrapped feet. He caught himself in mid-heave, feeling that sudden return of hot/cold to his face.

“I need you to set it,” Andy said, breathing heavily, struggling to concentrate as pain and shock continued to set in, causing his lips to turn a strong shade of blue.

Adam performed a double-take. “What?!”

“I need you to set it! I can't do it, not from this angle. All you have to do is—”

“I'm not touching that thing. I'm not touching—” Adam stopped in mid-ramble and nearly vomited again, at the very thought of touching something broken.

“I can't do it, Byrons! You have to! You don't, I will bleed to death and die, and you don't want that on your conscious, do you?”

“People can't die from broken bones,” Adam muttered childishly, stomach lifting to his throat once more, ears ringing more soundly as he forced himself to look down again. In that time, Andy had managed to clean up the area so that he could focus on what he needed to do. Adam involuntarily grimaced and pulled back, as if trying to get away from the sight.

Andy told him how, and Adam watched his own hands shake violently as he reached out to complete the task. Before he was inches from Andy's leg, he dry heaved again, the sight of the protruding bone affecting him deeply. Andy snickered despite himself, Adam glaring at him murderously.

“Just…just go. Don't stop, don't hesitate—it'll be difficult, so don't be afraid to use a little force. Just a little! I'll let you know if it's too much.” Andy quickly reached for a roll of gauze, and inhaled deeply before stuffing it sideways between his teeth. “ `K. Go.”

It felt like a great amount of time passed, Adam forcing himself to follow through with the instructions Andy had given him, but hearing the other man's clenched screams of pain, combined with the fact that he was watching bone rub and separate from each other in unnatural ways caused his stomach to push at his throat. He dry heaved repeatedly, feeling color and heat leave his face, his head to spin. Because of such things, he had to let go of Andy's leg and concentrate on regaining his senses back, and he would have to start over again. But he finally succeeded in setting the bone. Completing the task caused a shocking sensation through his system. Andy gave him a breathless compliment when everything left Adam's face in a rush. Before he knew it, his eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled over onto his side.

He jerked at the strong stench of ammonia, and sat up sluggishly, realizing that Andy was luring him back to consciousness with the tube. Wiping at his face, spying that Andy had wrapped and splinted his own leg with a temporary folding splint, Adam felt the embarrassing notion in that he'd fainted. He cleared his throat.

“You have a weak stomach,” Andy pointed out unnecessarily. He was wiping his fingers clean of his own blood, a small pile of moist towelettes sitting nearby.

“Shut up.”

“While you were out, I examined your injuries. I applied the rest of the medpack to you because of blunt force trauma that had damaged your chest. The rest is all superficial. Your uniform took a great brunt of the impact, so I'm not sure if you should continue doing anything strenuous, considering that your front torso's damaged,” Andy continued on. Adam fixed his opened shirt and shrugged his vest back on, wondering how Andy managed to do all that while occupied with his own injuries. “It might not hold up later on at full capacity.”

Adam examined his uniform torso, finding it crusted over from impact. He touched his chest, vest coming away with ash and dirt. He did feel a slight strain at inhaling a deep breath, but he felt better than he had earlier. He figured he could work with that. “Feels fine.”

Andy handed the FMB back to Adam. “It's healed to a hairline fracture. Enough for me to get to the hospital once we get out of here. I took your painkillers.”

With a sluggish action, Adam repacked his pack and then slung it back onto his back, sighing at the strain that made itself known. Andy slowly rose to his feet, using the wall, but it was obvious he couldn't use the leg.

Adam studied him, then looked around. “How are you going to get around?”

Andy tested weight applied to a standing position and quickly shook his head. Turning to lean against the wall, he pointed down the tunnel. “Go and find help. I'll wait here.”

“It could be hours,” Adam said, not moving.

“It'll have to be. Just leave me with another flare.”

“I don't have another flare.”

“I'll just be in the way. While you were napping, I see that we're completely caved in. It could be hours until they sort out the mess in the tunnel,” Andy said with a sigh. “It'd be faster if you just went and found somebody.”

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Probably service tunnels. So there has to be a way back up to the surface. Just go, Bryons.”

Adam looked back at the dark that had swallowed up the end of the tunnel, and then at the rats that scurried out of sight. He turned to say something when he heard a rumbling from nearby, and tensed. Both of them listened to the noise, realizing that it was coming from the collapsed tunnel. A cautious feeling starting to kick in, Adam watched the floor vibrate at their feet.

He shook his head slightly, studying the damage. “If it's either side, they could kill us and blame it on the accident, Andy.”

“What if they don't want to kill us?” Andy asked, feeling startled at the very words.

“I'm not sticking around to find out, dammit.”

At the sound of a high pitched roar, Adam grabbed Andy to pull him into a run, but the former medic gave a loud cry of pain, Adam belatedly remembering what had happened to his leg. He pulled the pistol once more.

The walls seemed to bounce with power, roars of discovery warning them of what was lying behind the rubble. Adam removed his pack, and gestured at Andy to climb onto his back.

“That's so gay!” Andy complained before complying as debris started to filter into their corridor. Adam hefted him high onto his back, adjusted his pack to fit against his front, and awkwardly shuffled off. His clip-on flashlight bounced, the cone of light catching various points of the hall, but he was able to see a stairway nearby, a short section of steps that disappeared around a corner. He headed up those, hearing the smash of rubble behind him, Ganglish screaming loudly as human shouts intermingled with the noises.

“South Side,” Andy reported, curling his arms snugly around Adam's back. With the suit, the man's weight wasn't any trouble at all; combined with his own natural strength, Adam was easily able to hold him and his gear while running, but the awkwardness of the situation had him entirely conscious of the man's position, of where his own hands were. It also brought to notice that his own injuries were causing him to strain; he had to control his breathing so that he wasn't hurting himself with his own inhales.

The next hall was completely devoid of doors, stretching out beyond them in a foreboding manner. The silence was thick and unnerving, but it allowed them to hear the voices behind them. Adam trudged ahead, running down a hall that didn't seem to end. Behind them came flashes of light, and before he could glance back, Andy said, “They found us! The Aliens aren't even in sight. Probably they can't fit in the hallway.”

Another turn in the hall popped up almost suddenly, and Adam automatically turned right, then paused. It stretched for an undetermined amount of distance, and when he turned to shine his light onto the left section, it showed him a similar picture. With a grit of his teeth he turned back around and continued to run down the hall.

“Door!” Andy said, pointing ahead of him to the right. Adam spotted it and rushed up to it, trying the handle. It opened to reveal a boiling room of sorts, and he shut it, turning to run again when he spied another door. He pushed that open and found a locker room, but it looked so desolate and broken that he doubted it hadn't been used in years. He shut that and continued on until he came to another, but it wouldn't budge, even as he used his assisted strength to do so.

With an irritated sigh, he tried another, but this one led down a set of stairs, a wave of dank and wet touching him.

“Go that way! It has to be the underground water system!”

“We need to go up, not down!” Adam snapped in irritation, looking down the rest of the hall and spying another set of doors. But the sounds of the voices behind them were growing closer, and he hesitated as he moved to shut the door and continue on.

“But we don't know if that's a dead-end! Go down this way! We can hide in water if we have to!”

“I don't know what kind of water that is!”

Andy grabbed his hair and yanked at him. “Go down that way, you pussy!”

Resisting the urge to hurl the man away from him, Adam moved into the room and shut the door as the flashlights of those pursing them became visible. He locked the door and then climbed down the steps, the narrow walls brushing against both shoulders, the steepness of the climb forcing him to move stiffly. Once they touched down onto the bottom, he saw that the water flowed smoothly through deep canals that lined stretches of darkness. It smelled strongly of various rot, mold and wet, making his eyes water. The walls were touched with green moss and matter, the floors, though lined with engraved strips, slippery and treacherous. There were warning signs all throughout the area, reminding workers to wear their gear and to thread carefully. A dated notice, dating back nearly forty years ago, reminded personnel that there was a collapsed canal fifty meters to their right.

“Ugh, how disgusting. To think this is where our drinking water comes from,” Andy commented with a revolted noise.

Cautiously, Adam headed away from the apparent site of the collapsed canal, walking down the strip of walkway. His flashlight touched upon various wet walls and empty stations that had been once manned by workers years ago. Hearing the silence and the steady sound of moving water was somewhat creepy. He came upon a bridge, and tested it cautiously before walking upon it. The metal protested their weight, and he stopped. But as it started to give away, he hurried forward and leapt the short distance onto the next walkway, the bridge falling into the water with a metal groaning sound.

Andy shifted to say, “I think there's some light across the way. Look. See? It might be the exit out of here.”

Adam squinted to see that there was a faint light a great distance across the way. He started to shake his head when he saw that it was an Exit sign over a heavy metal door. He paused to judge the area he was in, to find a quicker path to it. He saw that the entire room was a series of running canals, that the bridge to each walkway was either decrepit in some way or missing entirely. He sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump.

“Kinda like one of those horror movies, huh?” Andy said cheerfully, reaching down to adjust the flashlight that was clipped to Adam's vest. He investigated for himself what the situation looked like, then straightened.

“A little inappropriate right now,” Adam said distractedly.

“Makes the adrenaline run, doesn't it? There might be scary monsters nearby, lurking in those waters. Or illegal Aliens,” Andy continued, his voice obnoxiously loud in the heavy silence.

“Quiet down, huh? They might hear you.”

“Sorry. It's just so quiet.”

Concentrating on his next move, Adam walked the walkway until he came to another bridge. Without taking the chance, he scurried across it, then had to make a sideways leap onto a slim ledge of a broken walkway. Nearly losing his balance in the act, Andy jerked him to the side, where he was able to reach out and hold onto the overhead piping that lined the ceiling. Steadying himself, Adam walked the slim stretch until he came to a normal length. But the next bridge he came to was missing, and he sighed again.

“Maybe the canals aren't so deep?” Andy said, leaning to peer down into the murky waters that flowed below them. Adam didn't like how they were unable to see the bottom, and after viewing the buildup on the sides of the slick wall, he didn't even want to touch it. He looked across the canal, knowing he wouldn't have been able to make the jump, even if Andy weren't on his back.

“Aw, geez, it's so freaking scary in here. Maybe we aren't the only ones in here. Maybe there are people watching us from the darkness,” Andy continued, hunching over Adam. “Underground people that pick things from the water and survive by killing on each other and—”

“Will you shut up?”

“Like that spelunking movie.” Andy exhaled deeply. “It's so creepy. I feel like I have to talk just to keep sane. Ha, ha, I feel like one of those coed's that are just venturing into something that's going to have them dead by—”

“Just. Shut. Up.”

Adam spied that if he could continue on the length of the walkway, he could travel a couple of others that were out of the straight path, but eventually one of them would yield him back to the route he wanted to take. He headed in that direction, glancing the way they'd come and finding that the door hadn't budged. He figured that the men hadn't even seen them come in this way, and had to use that for an advantage. Thinking over the attacks, he wondered if Yoshida Smith and Kawakura had been involved at all. With them there, it would have been neater, a little more stabilizing. They wouldn't have allowed the collapse.

He started thinking of other things, like how awkward it was to be stuck with a man he'd just insulted and downgraded hours earlier. Andy had a completely different tone to him, and Adam suspected it was only because the situation forced him to cooperate in a manner that would guarantee them an easier sort of camaraderie for their escape. He wondered how Andy could push aside those feelings and work with him in such a platonic way when all he could think about was how horrible he'd treated him.

“What kind of movies do you like, Adam?” Andy then asked, jerking lightly on his hair to catch his attention, interrupting his thoughts. “I'm a bit partial to the old black-and-whites. Where men were men and women were the fools that loved them. Isn't it sad how today's flicks are so…forced? It's as if the characters simply run by their scripts and we don't feel any of their—”

It felt entirely forced. Adam wasn't sure if it were the situation that had him on edge, or the situation between them. It was obvious the man was grasping for anything to keep up the amity. But it bothered him, Andy's rambling, in a situation where Adam felt himself tensing in expectation of some new surprise. He couldn't resist saying impatiently, “Andy, hush.”

“Sorry.” Andy exhaled heavily again, wiping at the clammy sweat upon his brow. He felt nauseous and exhausted, his leg throbbing with excruciating pain, but he didn't want to say anything. He leaned heavily against Adam's shoulders, feeling entirely awkward with his positioning. As a man of five foot ten, it just didn't seem right to be carried in such a manner.

Adam walked in silence for a few minutes, but Andy felt as if it were a few days. The length of time started to drag, the quietly flowing water unnerving. Something splashed far-off behind him, but he jolted at the noise, clinging to Adam tightly as he strained to see what it had been. Adam strangled and then pried his arms from his neck.

“Jesus—!”

“I heard something!”

“There's nothing down here! Your imagination is running amok.”

“ `Amok',” Andy repeated shakily, giving a chuckle. “That's such a funny word. Do you think it has something to do with the Eskimos?”

Adam craned his neck to try and look at him. “What kind of painkillers did I have in there?”

“Sorry.”

Clenching his jaw and trying not to speak any further, knowing that it was irritating the man carrying him, Andy watched him progress from walkway to walkway. The waters were flowing more swiftly than the canals previously, and he wondered why, straining to see where they were going and what ducts were being used to cart them off. As Adam resumed his earlier route, Andy turned to look behind them, to see pitch-black darkness that yielded nothing within its clutches. He wondered what had splashed, wondering if fish were able to survive within these waters.

“Do you camp?” he then asked. Adam heaved an exasperated sigh, but Andy told himself it was only because they had come across another broken bridge. “Like, outdoors? Outside the city? Parks and things inside the city doesn't count.”

“Yes. We go out to Death Valley in the winter. Sometimes Yosemite.”

“You…You and Peters?”

“Yes.”

Andy wanted to rub at his aching leg, wanting to clutch it within both hands and shout in pain. With the way it was suspended, his bare foot kept bobbing in such a painful manner that it was distracting. But he swallowed tightly and asked, “How? I mean, I've never camped, before. The notion was…a little intimidating. Do you camp in tents, or lay out in sleeping bags under the stars? Like in the old movies?”

“Tents.”

“Do you bring food with you, or do you have to hunt for it?”

“Jesus Christ, Andy. We bring food.”

“Those fishing and hunting shows show guys hunting and fishing! So I was just wondering if that's what you have to do when you go camping!” Andy complained, aware that his voice had taken on a slightly hysterical edge. It felt as if the massive area absorbed sound. He couldn't hear it echo off the walls.

“Sometimes I'll go fishing. It's nothing much. I hate touching fish anyway.”

He then asked, “What do you do when you camp? I mean, starting from the moment you wake up. Is it cold? Do you have to start a fire? Do you have to use those tin things to brew your coffee—?”

“Andy. No. All right? I don't want to talk about camping. I don't want to talk, period.”

Andy grit his teeth and swallowed tightly. “Sorry,” he eked out.

“Quit apologizing! Just—don't talk!”

“Sor—”

Adam threatened to drop him, Andy catching onto him quickly. Once they were repositioned, Adam started off again, moving quickly across a bridge that looked weak. They touched down onto the other side and the bridge fell into the murky waters with a clanging sound, causing both of them to hunch their shoulders, watching for movement on the other side.

A loud splashing noise from a close point had Andy jolting again, and he gripped Adam's neck tightly while Adam gurgled, moving to pry his arms off. “Oh my God, it's getting closer!” he squeaked.

“Will you knock it off?” Adam growled.

“You can't even see what it is! How do you know it's not some form of monster?”

“We live among Alien lifeforms, we've pretty much seen everything that there is to be seen!” Adam snapped.

“It's coming up to us! It's not going to stop and ask us questions or give us directions. It's going to eat us! RUN!”

“Act like a man, Goddamnit. There should be nothing scary in your life that—”

At the creaky gurgling sound of a life form nearby, he stopped in mid-sentence. But he didn't bother to finish as Andy gave a yell, strangling him once more. Adam turned and hurried off, moving quickly from bridge to bridge until they finally reached the door on the other side. Once he swept through the doorway and locked it behind him, he exhaled shortly, wondering what the hell it had been.

Andy laughed, the sound obnoxiously loud within the small corridor. Irritated, Adam deliberately bumped him up against one of the walls to shut him up, and then climbed the steep step of stairs. Once they reached the top, he exhaled heavily, finding that Andy's earlier observations of his suit had been correct. It was yet another dark hall, but there was faint light ahead. To their sides was an extending section of open antechamber, where more water flowed underneath, visible underneath the sturdy steel boardwalk. He wondered where the antechambers led, trying to imagine the possibilities of bigger rooms.

“There, look,” Andy said, pointing at a visible staircase that led up through the ceiling. It was located somewhere beyond the dark hall, but Adam felt uplifted knowing that they were coming close to reaching the surface again. He shifted Andy as he started walking again.

The stairway was dimly lit, and led up to another door, the glass plating showing him that there was more light available. It was a large room with various tables and desks clumped together, as if it were a storage room of sorts. But he spied on the back wall what looked to be a map, so he turned the knob, finding it easy to do so and ventured in.

He suddenly stumbled, boot catching the edge of the doorframe and forcing him to fall forward. He caught himself but he noticed the impact had caught Andy's injured leg. He heard Andy suck in a deep, shaky breath, then felt his weight settle heavily against his back. Straightening, he barely caught the man's arms before they slipped from his neck, using his other arm to reach back and keep him aloft.

“Andy?” he said, shaking his shoulders slightly. After a few seconds of no response, he made a snorting sound, shifting him a bit to distribute a proper hold and continued on. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he ventured through the mess, negotiating a few turns and twists that were cramped tightly with various office paraphernalia. There was another door that looked as if it opened into another hall, and he assumed it was where he would have to go to reach the staircase they'd seen earlier. He stopped before the map that was posted on the wall, noting with some relief that it had a `You Are Here' point within the center. Carefully he laid Andy over one of the tables nearby, clearing space to do so. He was grateful for the relief in his chest area, breathing slowly just to test how bothersome the strain was and finding that he was quite okay.

He had no idea on what the other man's condition was, not having paid enough attention to medical situations when Sam had coasted through them with their teammates. To him, Andy had simply passed out from the pain and from his own exhaustion. He glanced at the crude splint, noting that his ripped jeans were damp with blood. Grimacing as nausea touched him, Adam returned back to the map and gently pulled it from the wall.

Seeing that a break was needed, he rummaged through his pack and pulled out an MRE. Minutes were spent as he opened that and began munching, pulling out his canteen to wash it all down with water. It was when he opened the map to study it when Andy stirred, sluggishly rising to sit.

Adam set the map aside and watched to make sure he knew of their surroundings, else he fell off the table. Andy oriented himself, slowly examining his leg before noting what Adam was doing. Adam held out a bag of cinnamon treats, having demolished the rest of his meal earlier. “I have another MRE. It's Chinese, though.”

“Ugh, I'm fine,” Andy said with disappointment.

“There's this,” Adam then added, opening the MRE anyway and pulling out the bars. He then looked at the bag with a frown, figuring Ian must've traded him for a favorable meal when Adam wasn't paying attention. “Ian had this last. Don't know how it got into my pack.”

Andy took the bars, but he frowned upon the casual mention of the name. He looked down at his leg, feeling his brow furrow as his inner self demanded, at that moment, to get some answers. His shin throbbed with heavy discomfort, and he set the bar aside to examine the crude work he'd done, noting the bruising and the heavy swelling. Figuring that it was too soon to dose himself again with the last round of painkillers, he adjusted the wrapping and picked up the bar to eat. He finished it off as Adam studied the map.

It's not that I'm jealous, he thought, inwardly arguing in reply something he wasn't even aware of thinking over.

But he studied Adam's profile and felt himself shake his head slightly, wondering where it had all gone wrong. Had Adam truly just seen him as a replacement for Ian? In the beginning, when they met, was it really that? Or did Adam really need him, the way that Andy needed somebody? He was confused and anxious, wanting to know answers, but feeling that it was entirely wrong to bring it up now. He wished for the comfort of distractions, of people, of voices, of city activity. The deep and quiet underbelly of New Park was incredibly terrifying with its absorbing silence and secrets. Their room was swallowed with dark, with only Adam's flashlight propped between them, providing just a cone of light that made Adam squint as he looked over the map.

Not that Andy was afraid of the dark; it was the fact of being very alone that terrified him.

He heard himself swallow hard and tried not to focus on it, looking at Adam once again. He felt incredibly conflicted; unsure of what he felt, and unsure of what needed to be fixed. If anything could be fixed at all. He did want to have Adam in his life. To continue to get to know him, to see if things could change, to see if Adam could see him differently. There was a gruffness to him that Andy felt was only a cover; and a guy couldn't be entirely too bad if Sam liked him. Just knowing that there were points to Adam that Andy felt he could live with overwhelmed his common sense, and he wasn't sure if it were because of the situation, or if he could truly feel the way he could outside of it.

But the situation with Peters was entirely overwhelming. In a way, Andy was jealous. That a person such as him could have someone as devoted and loyal as Adam, and Andy wanted that. He wasn't sure if he could find that in someone else.

Before he knew it, he was asking, “Why haven't you told him?”

Adam stuffed the trash back into his pack. “Told who what?”

“That you're in love with Peters.”

Adam gave him a glare, wondering why it had to be brought up at this moment. He gave Andy a disgusted expression. “I'm focusing on getting us out of here.”

“But—”

“I have no reason to discuss such things with you, nor do I feel any obligation to.”

Andy frowned, feeling dressed down. The instinct kicked in in which he felt to drop the matter, but as he watched Adam check his MRE to find something suitable to eat, he felt the override of his own feeling in continuing the matter. He couldn't stay silent, to continue going on when he had the chance to express himself without interruption. He stubbornly set his lips, resolving to get his say in.

“That was some pretty angry sex you had that night.”

“Fuck off with that shitty talk.”

Andy took a deep breath. “In any event, having these feelings for him isn't getting you anywhere. You're not going to get him.”

“Murphy, shut the fuck up.”

“NO,” Andy said forcefully. “You need to see what you're doing. You need to let go. It's unhealthy to—“”

Adam deliberately knocked his fist down on his splintered leg in the cover of setting the map down where he could see it. It caused Andy's face to pale, for his teeth to clench hard. Seeing him struggle to gain power over the pain, Adam said lowly, “We can go up this way. This corridor leads to a station that has an access elevator up to the surface.”

“Ignoring it all isn't going to get you anywhere!” Andy said between clenched teeth.

“I won't talk about this with you—!”

“Why? So you're just going to go through life using all these guys that look like him, and never allow yourself to move on?”

Adam gave him a cold look, rolled up the map, and then moved away.

“Living like that isn't going to make you happy. You may lie to yourself all you want by pretending to be his friend, but eventually you're going to look back and realize you've wasted your life on something so utterly—”

“I refuse to listen to you any further.”

“You can make a choice like that, but you can't make the bigger choice to let go? How cowardly! Are you so comfortable living this way that you're too scared to move on?” Andy continued, struggling to express the vocal frustration he felt, refusing to back down to his usual instinct to let things go. “You're such a big man on the outside, Adam, but inside you're just a cowardly little person. That kid was right. You're very insecure.”

Adam turned to look back at him, and Andy quieted at the look on his face. He wasn't afraid of physical retributions, but he felt a quiver of anxiety upon seeing the expression on Adam's face.

Adam moved back to him, and Andy swallowed tightly, feeling himself tense up at his nearing proximity. He jerked in reaction as Adam lifted a hand, but it was to set his FMB next to him. “Here. I'm going to go on ahead to find help. I'll bring back proper medical personnel.”

“Y-You're going to leave me here alone?” Andy asked shakily, wishing he'd looked at the map himself. Being alone hadn't seemed so troublesome near the Fast Trac tunnel, because he knew there were people on the other side. But now, deep within some unknown underbelly, the very thought was terrifying.

“I need the flashlight, so you'll be in the dark. You're not afraid of the dark, are you?”

Andy shook his head. He looked up as Adam turned to leave, rolling the map up before moving away. Anxiety started to suffocate him as the thought of being alone started to cause his heart to pound hard against his ribs.

“W-wait! What if they find me?”

“Just hide. Oh, and be very quiet,” Adam simply said, locking the door before leaving the room.

At the ringing silence that was left behind, Andy inhaled deeply, hearing only his heart start to pound. The quiet started to press in on him, and he strained to hear Adam's presence outside the door.

That big baby! He thought childishly, struggling to overwhelm his terrified expression into an indignant frown. Running away when it gets emotionally tough. That certainly isn't a good quality in a man.

He started to breathe heavily, his head starting to race with mindless thoughts. But he must've ran away because I hit some kind of cord. I would have…That's a positive thing, right?

The air started to feel heavy and lacking, and he shifted off the table, his hands shaking and his guts in knots. Forgetting his fractured leg, he applied weight to it and cried out at the nauseating pain that hit him. He clung to the table for a few moments, hearing only his breathing within the immense silence. He strained to see anything within the room and saw only pitch black. The room seemed to echo with his clumsy movements, and even then it was his heavy breathing that sounded so overwhelming.

Slowly sitting on the cold floor, Andy continued to cling onto the table for support, stretching his leg out ahead of him. Once settled, he started to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking on things he'd endured at boot camp. It felt as if the room had dropped at least twenty degrees, skin pimpled with the cold. Shaking, he drew his arms over his chest and focused on keeping his breathing steady.

Idiot, he thought of himself harshly, wondering why he had to push Adam away like that. He focused on the pitch black in front of him, straining to see any form of light from underneath the door and finding nothing. He swallowed a bubbling urgency to cry out, just to hear some form of human voice. Finding that sitting alone within the room just wasn't going to cut it, he pushed himself to his feet, careful to keep weight off his leg. Still, he needed both legs to move, and while reluctant to push his luck on his broken leg, he applied as little weight needed to that side. It still caused nauseating pain, the shock of each movement causing him to breathe shakily.

He grabbed the FMB, tucking it under one arm. Using one hand to reach out and feel his way back to the door Adam had left, Andy banged and shuffled through the mess of the room. He found the door, unlocked and opened it slowly, finding that it was just as dark out in the hall as it was in the room. But there was more air, and he inhaled deeply, disturbed by the sound of his own breathing. The efforts to move were clouded by pain, but his anxiety prompted him to move.

Finding that thinking clearly was impossible due to his rising panic, Andy shuffled along the wall, back pressed tightly against it, keeping one hand out to search for anything that might be in his path. He wished he had looked at the map, and cursed himself for not doing so. Once he found a doorknob, he hesitated on opening it, struggling to remember what Adam had said while trying to shut him up. But at that moment, Andy had been focused on his pain, not on the words.

Cursing again, Andy tried the door and found it locked. Shuffling again, hating that the noise in the corridor seemed to echo and ring off every available surface, he found another door that opened easily. Looking in, he saw darkness, but the air felt different inside. It wasn't stuffy and still like a room; it seemed to stretch. Thinking he'd found the corridor Adam had mentioned, he took a deep breath before moving in, feeling sweat drip down his temples, his shirt sticky with it. He didn't realize he'd dropped the FMB, but it flopped to the floor with a dull thump, his feet shuffling past it by mere centimeters. It took a few minutes until he realized that it was indeed a corridor, his hand slapping at nothing and the wall comforting to his back. His leg throbbed with every movement, drawing pain down the limb as if it were some conductor. A certain sort of numbness and tingling sensation caused his foot pain, as if it were falling asleep.

He paused to wipe at his face, noticing that his hand was shaking with the action. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and decided to take a break. Focusing on his breathing, Andy shut his eyes and let his head fall back. It was disconcerting that his breathing was so loud, and he forcefully lowered it; it only prompted more of an anxiety feeling, so he pushed up and away, struggling to continue walking until he reached another door or the stairway that they had seen.

Once his fingertips touched another surface, he slapped contact onto it, finding that it was a wall that seemed to stretch beyond his left. He couldn't remember Adam saying anything about another stretch of corridor, but he slowly started down that path as well. Sweat stung his eyes, and when he brushed his hair off his forehead, found that matted. His gut clenched and a dry gasp left him when he heard a shuffling ahead of him; heart pounding hard against his ribcage, he figured that it was Adam moving around. Relieved at the possibility, but also regretting running into the man, Andy held himself still and listened to the sound. It stopped after a few moments, and Andy strained to hear more of it.

He wanted to call out to him, but after the situation in the room, Andy found himself biting his lip. He didn't want to face anymore of Adam's ire or push him further away. He just wanted to cooperate in a cordial manner, and if it meant that he had to stay hidden to keep that amicability, then he was going to do so. He was tired of arguing and tired of fighting some verbal, mental battle with somebody. He just wanted to get to the surface, get fixed, and be rested and strong enough to push the situation aside to move on with his life. He knew that as soon as he left this underground labyrinth, he wouldn't be feeling so sensitive and unsure as he did now.

Closing his eyes, he pressed himself against the wall and waited to hear something more from that end. He wiped at the sweat on his face and heard the shuffling again; it sounded as if Adam were moving further down the corridor. As quickly as he could, Andy shifted after, careful not to lay too much weight on his leg but desperate to keep up, lest he were alone again.

Adam couldn't take anymore of Andy's words, knowing that they were all so very true. He was reluctant to move on, reluctant to let go. Not after so long.

Leaning against the door with a quiet thump, Adam exhaled slowly. Andy was right. He was a coward. He could admit that to himself. To hear it by someone else forced him to face it. He stared at the circle of light caused by his flashlight, hearing nothing but heavy silence all around him. It was extremely discomforting to know that while they were underneath a massive city with hundreds of thousands of people above them, the tunnels and empty rooms they were lost in made it seem as if they were the only ones left in the world.

He thought about Ian. Wondered where he was, what he was doing. If Ian were thinking of him, if he were concerned and worried. Adam figured it was so because Adam was his best friend. And only his best friend. Ian wouldn't think of him in any other way. He wasn't going to magically develop feelings for him one day. Adam thought of living his life alone, finding men that were going to look like Ian, and realizing that it was going to be lonely. Because he loved an untouchable person that would never touch him back. Adam looked at the ceiling before forcing himself to press forward, moving away from the door and finding the corridor that he'd seen on the map that would take them up to the surface.

Minutes of negotiating the darkness and finding the door had him venturing into a large antechamber that was completely devoid of furniture, any landmarks and the elevator that it had boasted on the map. He found the elevator shaft, but upon examination saw that the platform had been removed. Staring up the tunnel, he saw complete and utter darkness above and below. Shifting away from the open doors, he studied the map and searched for another route.

The emptiness of the antechambers caused goosepimples to form, and the silence was overwhelming. He turned in a slow circle, flashing the light around, studying the empty spaces where temporary cubicles had been set, broken outlets visible from behind the clutter of trash that littered the floor.

Minutes passed before he found himself once again thinking over the other situation. He recognized that on some level he didn't want to live without the affections of another. He wanted to share things in his life with someone, wanted a companion to come home to, to love him in a way he could return. He was as lonely as Andy was. Deprived of affection and feeling.

He thought of Andy drowning his loneliness and feelings with alcohol. He thought of his own ability to black out with an occasional drink just to fuck a man that resembled his best friend. With another low exhale, he felt remorse for reacting so angrily with Andy. Andy made him lose control of himself and it wasn't Andy's fault. Adam couldn't blame him—Andy was only guilty of making Adam face the problem because no one else could. He was either a very brave man or a foolish one.

Either way, Andy made him face himself, make him think. And Adam couldn't help but respect that.

Why would Andy go to such lengths to piss him off mentioning Ian's name? He knew Andy had feelings for him, but after that horrible night, why wouldn't Andy just write him off? Adam recognized that he did care for Andy, because if Andy didn't matter, Adam wouldn't have given so much time and consideration to him at all. But he did and he had.

With a grit of his teeth, he resolved himself to fix the situation, once and for all. Because Andy did matter, and because perhaps he was ready to move on. Maybe he could stop living this life of pretending to be satisfied with being untouched by the one he loved, and move onto something that would make him feel more alive. If Andy could continue to be there helping him through every step of the way, perhaps Adam would find something more fulfilling. At that point, he recognized he did want to be there with Andy, because Andy stimulated him in ways he hadn't felt in such a long time.

He wasn't sure how to go about it; he wasn't sure what Andy thought of him now. But he had to push and see, to get a direct answer. He was not going to play mind games, or skirt around the issue. Even if it were such an inconvenient time, Adam just had to know what Andy felt of him, if things could be fixed.

He found what he was looking for, a stairway out from the antechambers that showed him the earlier staircase they had seen earlier. Moving up, he found a locked door, the glass window covered in dust. Slowly he twisted and turned the knob, feeling the lock catch. He held it and pushed the door in by shoving a shoulder against it, the metal bending with a loud protest. It was only a storage unit, he realized, shining the flashlight around. Frustrated, he shook his head and examined the map, looking for the date.

Finding it as he shut the door and shuffled down the stairs back to the antechamber, he cursed quietly and was surprised by how loud it seemed within the thick silence. The date was nearly fifty years earlier, long before Alien occupation of Earth. Since then, the various improvements made to human made conveniences had been revamped. Including the train system. He crumbled the map and tossed it aside, making his way back to the room where he'd left Andy.

As he walked in, startled that the lock hadn't worked, he was trying to think of the right words to say to the other man. Seeing that Andy wasn't in sight made him think of his last words to hide. He called his name, cautiously venturing through the mess. For a moment, panic flit through him. The table Andy had been sitting on had been shifted aside and the FMB was gone, so Adam used his height to look over it and found nothing.

Seeing that the room was empty of the former medic, Adam was at a loss. He looked back at the door they'd entered the first time, and moved in that direction. Opening it, he strained his ears to hear of any movement, and figured Andy wouldn't have gone back in that direction, due to the strange sounds of the water chamber.

He shuffled through the room once more, calling Andy's name a couple of times, careful not to raise his voice lest anybody unfavorable heard him. With a low curse, he headed back out into the hallway, scanning the floor for any signs of the other's leave. He saw the FMB laying further down the hall, near a doorway he'd bypassed minutes earlier from the station he had just visited. Brow furrowed, he hurried in that direction, picking it up and then trying the door. Opening it revealed a long stretch of hall—to his right was a plain concrete wall, and to his left were glass windows that overlooked rail tracks that looked ancient. The dirt upon the glass was so caked over that, if Adam hadn't had the flashlight, would have mistaken it for a wall.

With an annoyed curse, he jogged down the hall, making mental notes of his trek in case he had to make his way back. He reached the end and looked down to see a four way with different possibilities. Moving down there, he figured he'd see Andy, knowing he hadn't been gone long. The left hall was only a set of restrooms; his right was a long entryway into some sort of office space. The hall ahead of him was blocked off mid-way with debris. Absolutely bewildered as to where the man could be, Adam shuffled in a slow circle before moving for the office way.

He called Andy's name with a harsh growl, the sound ringing off the emptiness of the area. There were several standing cubicles and office structures still standing, papers littering the floor. With a disgusted expression, Adam performed a quick jog around the room, and located an open door that led out into another hallway. This one stretched up to a large slanting hall with a broad Exit sign upon the back wall. There, nearly halfway up the hall, Andy was standing, giving him a startled expression as he came into view.

Cursing at the frustrating situation but also relieved that Andy had been found, Adam marched over. “What the hell are you doing? Why didn't you stay put?”

Andy looked beyond him, and then gave him a sheepish look. “I was looking for…the bathroom.”

Before Adam could say something to that, he then added, “I thought you found a way out. I was just…following to speed up the process.”

“I went the other way, you—!” Adam cut himself short, aware that saying anything more was only the venting of his own emotions. He watched as Andy slowly rose to stand, looking entirely drenched with sweat, lips tinged blue. His pallor was ghostly white, and Adam wondered if he should be moving around. But he figured Andy knew what he was doing, considering he was the medic. He left it to the one that knew better, but he didn't like what he was seeing.

He wanted to reach out to touch him, to force him to take it easy but he wasn't sure how another man would take such concern. Especially if it were coming from him. It sent another wave of irritation through him, making it seem as if he were personally angry with Andy, sending the wrong message.

Not looking at him, Andy gave a clearly shaky, “You found help?”

“No.”

“A-are they close by?”

“No.”

“A-ah, it was an outdated map,” Andy then said, trying to inject some light cheer in his voice, but Adam could hear the anxiety in his tone. Upon seeing his sweaty face and shaking hands, Adam knew it wasn't because Andy was warm. The room was cool, something he could feel through his uniform.

“What's wrong with you?” he then asked quietly. “You sick?”

“No.”

Adam then shifted away so that he wouldn't do anything that he desperately wanted to, studying the Exit sign and wondering where it led. He walked on ahead and turned the corner, seeing that the floor shifted up to another antechamber. Tired already of being lost and without help, Adam turned and figured that the best way to find help was going back the way they'd come. Cautiously, in case that the South Side was still looking for them. He was surprised that they hadn't been found yet, but dreaded the thought of there being more similar areas like this one.

“It was an outdated map,” he then muttered. “I've got to find another one, or we're going back to the tunnel.”

“Look in the desks. On the cubicle walls,” Andy suggested as he slowly lowered himself to sit.

Adam shifted away to do just that. Rummaging through the cubicles, he came across some things that seemed useful, but there wasn't any sign of a map. With a curse he slammed the last drawer shut and wondered what to do. He checked his ammunition supply for his pistol, but it wouldn't do anything against the Ganglish.

“Let's go back,” he muttered, heading back for him.

“I didn't want to be left there alone,” Andy then said. “There are…like, monsters back there.”

“Don't be stupid,” Adam said impatiently, unable to resist giving him a look.

“There, look! Another office!” Andy then said, pointing beyond him.

Adam turned to see that the doorway was nearly invisible behind a large fake plant, and he shifted away towards it. He opened the door, finding a map of the area atop of a filing cabinet. It was worn and marked over with various colors, and the most recent date at the bottom assured him. Scanning it, he realized the new additions since the date of the last map, and returned to Andy. The previous antechamber he was going to give up on was actually the way out. Studying it, he saw that through the antechamber was an emergency stairway to the surface.

He looked at Andy, who was waiting expectantly for some sort of word on their next move. “It's up to date. We go this way.”

“So you weren't in this section?” Andy then asked him, slowly pushing himself to his feet.

Watching him, Adam furrowed his brow. He looked at his watch, finding that it was morning. His own feet were aching within his boots, and he looked down at Andy's. He hadn't heard a complaint from the other man since they met him, but he suspected that Andy was very uncomfortable. Guilt touched him, and he admonished himself for being inconsiderate to those injuries. But he figured since Andy wore the same uniform, had gone through the same training and physical conditioning as the rest of them, that he was simply made of tougher stuff than the average civilian.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked again.

“Yes. It'll be fine.”

“No, I wasn't down this way,” Adam then answered, rolling up the map. “Why?”

“I thought I heard you moving this way.”

“No. It was probably one of them,” he said, referring to the South Side. He removed his pack and shifted into a crouch, the gesture for resuming the piggyback position made. “Let's go.”

“I'll follow you,” Andy mumbled, gesturing at the wall. “Just lead the way.”

“It'll be faster if I carried you.”

“I don't need your assistance. Just lead the way.”

Adam shifted to a stand, giving a slow exhale of impatience. Seeing that Andy wasn't looking at him, he said, “You're mad.”

“I just want to get out of here, Byrons.”

`And get away from you.' The completed sentence finished itself within Adam's thoughts. He felt that stab of guilt again, a twisting sensation in his midsection. He was well aware he had been behaving like an asshole, despite his earlier registrations. He was tired and dealing with huge emotional decisions, and it tended to make him cranky. He had no idea how he was going to fix things with the other man, and didn't even start to think how or if Andy wanted them fixed. All he knew was that he was going to follow through with his end, whether Andy wanted him to or not.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before saying, “Andy, I…nothing, there's not enough apologies in the world I could make to…to fix things.”

Andy gave him a startled look, but said quickly, “Oh, it's okay. I'm not afraid of the dark, and I totally understand if I'm slowing you down—!”

“Andy, just—just let me talk,” Adam interrupted him, reaching out to him, but then hesitating to touch him, even as he wanted to and then felt he couldn't at the same time.

“Oh, no, it's okay. You don't have to—”

Adam reached out again to touch his shoulder, to silence him with the gesture and to ground himself at the same time. “I can't apologize enough for what I did or said,” he said slowly. “But…you're right. On…about all of it. I…need to face it. I've been acting shitty because stuff like that, it's…it's difficult to deal with. And I keep taking it out on you. But I don't want—I just want you to know that it's more than that.”

He then exhaled heavily, feeling as if he'd spoken for a lengthy amount of time. But he'd gotten out what he had to, and didn't feel the need to get breathless about it.

Andy studied him for a few moments, recognizing that Adam was the sort of person to say minimal to express himself, but at the same time, he didn't know enough of Adam to know if he was being sincere, or if this was truly his way of smoothing the situation over so they could move on.

“Okay,” he said simply.

Adam looked at him. He remembered that Sam was frustrated in Andy's ability to say things just to appease the other person. “I meant it, Andy,” he said, looking at him, taking in the wide pupils of his blue eyes. The other man looked sick, and it hurt Adam to see it. It was as if he were looking at somebody else with Andy's skin.

But then Andy nodded; Adam felt that it was just another fake expression. He then shifted his hand to Andy's face, startling the other with his touch. When Andy moved to escape it, Adam held tightly, feeling how clammy he was, startled and frustrated and angry at how helpless he felt in doing anything about it. It all came out in a rush, breaking through a fragile barrier once his emotions and thoughts for the man overwhelmed him.

“That's all you have to say? `Okay'?” he asked angrily. “I expressed everything I felt important to say and you only have to say `okay'?”

Andy's eyes widened slightly. “I—”

“You were pretty passionate earlier!”

“Um…well…I…I accept your apology.”

“Did my apology mean anything to you?”

“I, um, I forgive easily.”

Frustrated, Adam released him, but he said, “What did my apology mean to you? Did it affect you?”

“…Yes…?”

“What am I apologizing for?”

“I…for…the…you said things.”

“What did I do to you, Andy?”

“I—you—you know what you did!”

“Why? Why did you feel you needed an apology?”

“I—what is this?”

“Why, Andy? Did I hurt you?”

“I'm over it—”

“I hurt you, didn't I?”

“I'm over it!”

“I hurt you really bad, didn't I? I used you, and I fucked you over hard, didn't I? And I keep talking shit and keep telling you to shut up because I don't want to hear a thing you say, right? I had enough time to think about what a big dick I have been, and it isn't fair for me to keep taking it out on you. And so when I apologize to you, I want to hear more than `okay'!”

“Geez, okay, I mean—! I accept your apology!”

“Does it mean anything to you?”

“I—yes.”

“You liked me, right? So I must've been this huge fucking villain to use you in place of him, so my apology must really be something—“

“Why are you making it into such a big deal?”

“Because it means something to me, Andy, and that's because you mean something to me, and when it looks like what I have to say doesn't affect you in any way, when it looks like all this shit I've committed doesn't mean anything to you and I apologized just to pass the time because it's so fuckin' fun, what's the point of me feeling this way if it means nothing to you?” Adam heard himself shout.

Andy stared at him for a few moments, and then gave a lanky shrug.

Embarrassed and ashamed that he'd made a fool out of himself trying to get through to him, Adam gave a frustrated curse. He turned and stalked away, up through the route he'd pointed out earlier, feeling his face heat over his actions. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so damn aggressive again, over making an apology count. He then slowed his steps, hearing the sluggish shuffling behind him as Andy moved to keep up, negotiating his way through the darkness by using the walls for support. Feeling incredibly mortified, Adam kept his distance, feeling his jaw tighten as he slowed enough for Andy to see their path and far enough away so that he couldn't see the other's face or hear his words, should he speak anything.