Chapter Text
September was never Scott's favourite month of the year.
Spring, while a lovely time for many things in nature, was not lovely for Scott. The air was still too cold and with the spring pollen coming in it was a wonder he could breathe at all, this time of year.
It frustrates him, the hayfever. The part of town they live in is polluted and desolate, it's disgusting, yes, but it's all man made garbage. Scott isn't a scientist, and has never claimed to be, but he would have thought pollen couldn't reach him from here, holed up in a shitty apartment building god knows how many miles from anything that could be considered nature.
But alas it doesn't work like that, and he still finds himself starting to sneeze around this time of year.
As he sits at the kitchen table, bundled up in his yellow sweater with a tissue box beside him, he tries to look on the bright side. The weather will change soon, hopefully. There is a change in sight.
That doesn't help very much now though. It doesn't make the cold any less worse, and it doesn't make the hayfever go away. And it doesn't make the awkward feeling in his chest lessen.
Funnily enough, spring isn't the root cause of the last problem this time, although Scott almost wished it could have been. No, this was more complicated, something much more embarrassing and complicated, a situation too intricate to be explained away by spring.
Human interactions are such a complicated thing.
Like a typical morning, he's eating breakfast at the dinner table, the long table in the kitchen only populated by two people, a short mousey brunette boy, and himself. Percy, the other boy, sits on the other side of the table, wolfing down his porridge like he will never eat again, while Scott bites his tongue.
It's not that Scott dislikes Percy, per say. He's likable enough, kind and loyal to a fault, but the other doesn't exactly have the best tact when it comes to keeping one's business to themselves.
It only took a year for Percy to figure Scott out. That's a new record. It took Belinda two years to figure him out and it took Nancy four. It only took a year to find out one of Scott's big secrets.
The fact that Scott is technically not all that human.
He has all the parts of one, and is technically biologically the same, but he is the second human to ever be completely biologically engineered. A fake egg, and a fake sperm cell, humans can biologically replicate anything nowadays. He technically has got all the parts of a human, but none of them are naturally occurring. He's about as real as fake meat is actual meat, or as real as AI art is handmade.
Technically there's nothing different about him, but people can tell. People know.
And it wasn't until Percy Bluntly told him the truth, that he realised why it was such a dead give away.
Apparently, the feeling Percy had when he saw Scott was ‘uncanny valley’, something that looks human, but isn't.
And when percy told him this, Scott felt his fucking heart shatter.
It's been a week since Percy stalked Scott down, found him out on the balcony and waved Scott's government file in his face. How Percy got a hold of it, he doesn't know, but he has a pretty good idea of who gave it to him.
Much to his disbelief, Percy hasn't been treating him differently since, much the same. Percy's always been quiet, blurting things out when he thinks them but not one to engage in small talk. He's just like he always is, quiet, blunt. No nonsense.
But the whole encounter has left Scott on edge.
As the two of them sit at the dinner table, Scott clears his throat, unsure if he should talk or not. He never used to be like this , god dam it. Before the twins showed up, he knew all the people who lived here like the back of his hand. Now he's a bumbling idiot.
At this , Percy only looks up at him from over his bowl, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Mhh”
Percy hums with his mouth full. Scott pauses for a second before continuing slowly.
“Are you… what did you do with my file, the other day, I mean?”
Maybe if Percy was a bit like his brother, Scott would have approached this differently, but he sees no need to with Percy. Percy's own style of communication was direct and to the point, so he figured he would approach it the same way.
Peecy seems to appreciate this, going back to his bowl and muttering.
“Gave it to Caitlin, she sent me to go get it, so I gave it to her?”
Ah, he was right. Of course it was caitlin.
Scott gives a half hearted hum back, turning to look around the room anxious. There's no one there of course, he would have heard them come in. Just in case.
“And you didn't tell-”
“No, I didn't tell him.” Percy interrupts, half groaning as he does. “Hes not gonna care, I don't know why you care so much”
And Scott hopes it stays that way. He doesn't need Percy all up in his business, he just needs him to keep this secret for a while. Sighing in relief, Scott shakily replies
“Thank you. I'm glad I can trust you.”
Percy snorts in response, and Scott assumes that's the best he's going to get. It's better than nothing.
Percy looks back up at him, as if studying a crossword, brows furrowed and his normal resting bitch face. It makes Scott feel a bit scrutinised.
“You know… whatever reason caitlin made me grab your file and shit, it's gotta be illegal, right?”
Scott snorts at this, a sarcastic smile creeps on to his face.
“dude, everything we do is illegal, your a fucking weapons dealer.”
Before Percy can retort with the next insult, the door behind him clicks open gently, as quiet footsteps pad into the room. Scott knows who it is, can tell by the footsteps on the creaky old floor boards. After years of being crammed into a building with ten people, Scott can immediately tell who's footsteps are who's, but these ones he has become overly familiar with as of late.
Adam has come down for breakfast.
The man in question enters the room, hunched over and yawing quietly, shuffling over to the seat next to Scott. His thin brown hair is a mess, messed up from sleeping on it wet, and the bags under his eyes are as prominent as usual. While he doesn't look any worse than usual, he still looks crook, unwell.
He slumps down on the chair next to Scott, with a huff.
“What'd ya say ‘bout somthin’ illegal? Who's in trouble now?”
His sleepy voice makes his accent stronger, the relaxed, nasally accent similar to Percy's , just without the lisp. They are twins after all.
Percy merely scoffs at this, huffing into his bowl of porridge.
“All of us” he drawls, scowling “We are all going to hell, god rest our souls.”
Scott doesn't get it, assuming Percy is taking the piss, but Adam chuckles quietly , giggling into his hand. He crosses his arms and leans his chin on the table. He looks funny like that, hunched over and curled up, his blue wooden sweater bunching up. He turns to look up at Scott, as if to see if he got the joke too. He looks ridiculous, Adam is six foot two , stupidly tall and gangly, and to see him all curled up is ridiculous looking.
Ridiculous but oddly enduring
Call Scott a push over, call him a simp but, if only to entertain Adam, he smiles and gives a small chuckle, less at Percy's comment, more at the other, and god damn it, Adam smiles.
And it terrifies Scott how happy that makes him.
“Oh, shut up” Adam turns to his brother, tone fond but mocking. “It's only nine o'clock and you're already spouting Nihilism.”
God, Adam really is up early. Nine o'clock, while being a late breakfast for both Scott and Percy, is horrifically early for Adam nowadays.
It's not that Adams is lazy, gods no, you would have to be crazy to think something like that. Adam has done things that Scott wouldn't dare do with a gun in his pocket. No, Adams is not lazy.
He's sick.
Its obvious to anyone who knew him, or even passed him in the street. His face is gaunt and his eyes are dark, he has the look of someone whose body is eating them alive. His wrists are unproportional and his ribs are visible, he moves slower everyday.
He never used to be like that, when Scott first met him a year ago, Adam looked like any one of them. Tall, lean, and a tiny bit over zealous, he was a bumbling idiot and had more energy than any of them. It was only when he got the same illness as his cousin that all of that went away.
They don't really know where the illness came from, but Caitlin had tried to explain it to him. He got it after the city was bombed, and Caitlin told him it had been brought on by shock, something to do with a fear so shocking and visceral that it ate away at his immune system, leaving him vulnerable.
It sounds like bullshit to Scott ,but he's not a doctor. All he knows is that Adam is suffering, and it makes his chest ache
He and Adam spent a lot of time together after the bombing, both being house bound for recovery. Adam for his illness and Scott for taking an arrow to the shoulder. It was awkward at first , spending twenty four hours cooped up with a person, but they eventually spent more and more time talking, more time doing things together. Scott would help Adam out of bed in the morning, Adam would help him do the things he couldn't with his dominant arm out of commission. It was nice.
And if Scott might have considered Adam more than a friend along the way, that's nobody else's business.
Scott is snapped out of his train of thought by hearing Percy grumble, throwing his spoon in his empty bowl and pouting.
“Whatever. Glad to see you up before it turns into lunch time.”
With the huff, the boy gets up from the table to dump his bowl in the sink. Scott and Adam giggle to themselves at the other stalks out of the room. Compared to his brother, Percy's footsteps are thundering, and the boys at the table can still hear them from all the way up the hall. As Adam turns to look back at Scott he pulls a face, a half assed effort of trying not to laugh. The sight of it is ridiculous, and funnier than it should be.
Through giggles, Scott goes to stand.
“Hes not wrong you know, it's good to see you up early. Are ya having breakie yet?”
As he turns to the kitchenette, and pauses when he gets to the crockery draw , he can hear Adam respond.
“Nah, not yet. I still feel crook if I eat too early, you know how it is.”
Scott hums in response as he pours out his porridge, only having grabbed one bowl. He doesn't like porridge, finds the stuff bland, but it's pretty much all they can afford at the moment, with the borders closed. After hunting down the cutlery and grabbing some water, he takes his spot back next to Adam, nudging the other as he sits down.
“Didnt you sleep well or something? Haven't seen you up at this hour in a long time. Is it good or bad?”
Being cooped up in a building with someone all day for a while makes you aware of each other's habits. Since the illness, Adam sleeps in, usually getting out of bed from anywhere from eleven till three. Adam being out of bed at nine o'clock in the morning is unusual to say the least. If he's up at a time like this, that means he's either unable to sleep, or a miracle has struck, and a miracle is unheard of in a place like this. The most they get nowadays is a small convenience at best.
As he suspects, Adam groans in response, dramatically melting in his chair.
“Bad. It's bad. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Its like a catch twenty two or somthin’.”
Scott tuts. “Ahh, shit, sorry. I can go get some medicine today, I got some spare time in between appointments.”
He feels generous today, Sue him. Usually , he would pawn of the medicine collection to someone else, whines and sook until sam would bite the bullet and go for him. Pain medication is always a necessity around here, they go through it faster than milk. Between the collection of illnesses, injuries, scraps and bruises, the library hide out practically hoards paracetamol.
But maybe he's just feeling good, or maybe it's because it's Adam who needs it, but suddenly he's more than happy to pop down the shops. Theres something different about fetching medicine for adam than it is for some one else in this place, or, more usually, his sister's annoying girlfriend.
“ ‘Ts ok, you don't have to-” Adam pouts, pulling a face , though it's so obviously fake , he almost looks like he's out of a cartoon. Scott pretends to clip him upside the back of the head.
“ Nup! I'm doing it! Can't have you awake again all night. Who am I gonna read with if you spend your whole night awake and your whole day asleep!”
Adams is a terrible sleeper , it's true. Again, living with someone for years of your life makes you well aware of their daily antics, their quirks and their general activities.
It's gotten way worse since the illness, but the other doesn't sleep like a normal person. Yawning and dozing off all day but tossing and turning at night, it's almost like his clock is reversed.
There are a lot of them packed into one room , the makeshift house they live in is small after all. Being in such close quarters means you know everything about everybody. Amy goes to bed early, Mathew snores like hell on earth, and Adam doesn't sleep.
There's been more than one night where he and Adam are the only two home, especially when they were house bound. There would be multiple nights where Scott could hear him tossing and turning, when he could hear Adam climb down the rickety old bunk bed and head out the door.
He wouldn't come back till hours later, or at least, he would on the nights Scott lay awake, the shoulder pain making him unable to sleep due to pain. Scott always wonders what Adam did throughout the night, would he go off into the lounge room to read , or would he haul himself up onto the roof to smoke, and stare out at the sky.
Scott never followed him, he was too tired and too stubborn to do that, but he often wishes he would have. How nice it would have been to huddle up against each other and stare out at the night sky.
“Heh, I guess you're right.” Adam chuckles as he looks at the other. “What would I do without my favourite part of my day?”
It's such a simple sentence but it makes Scott's breath hitch.
“Thats your favourite part of the day?” He pushes out, meaning for it to come out as a ridicule, shit talking between mates. How it sounds on his ears is anything but however, and he can almost hear his voice crack at the end of it.
Adam chuckles, as he looks over his shoulder the back at the other with a guilty smile.
“Well, yeah, it is, honestly. It's a bit sad, I know. I don't get to do too much, nowadays.”
He looks almost embarrassed as he says this, and it makes Scott pause.
“It's not sad, it's… I really enjoy it too!”
Before he can even begin to feel embarrassed for the intensity of which he replies back, Adam chuckles , waving his hands in mock defence.
“It's fine! It's fine! But, I'm glad you enjoy it too. You're the only other one who likes the classics.”
The silly little book club thing was something they started when they were house bound, Adam marvelling at the selection of books that their shitty little library base had. It all started one day when Adam had seen Scott reading an old fairy tale in Gaeilge, and asked him what it meant.
It was an old book really, one Scott had heard a billion times, but he's never been as fluent at the language as his sister , so he read the dusty old thing as practice.
After much discussion, they had set some sort of ritual in place, reading together throughout the day. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn't, but the company was lovely nonetheless.
After exhausting half of the library's fiction section, they had decided The classics were their favourite.
“I'm glad. I didn't used to read that much ‘till you came along, nice to make the time for it now, ‘ya know?
When Scott looks back, Adams' smile is lopsided, kind of like his hair. He really needs to cut it, his usual style grew out months ago. It adds to the overall look of unkemptness that the sickness provides, but its one thing about it that Scott can't bring himself to hate.
“You're so good to me, honesty… Where would I be without you, huh?”
At that statement, Scott can feel his ears burn. It's just a thank you, in fact, Adam has probably said it before , but it makes Scott feel hot in the face and dizzy in the head. The awkward smile and the sincerity of the statement feel genuine, intimate, and he doesn't know what to do with himself.
So much of Scott's life is a game, he's a spy after all. In a world such as this, he's well equipped with a false preformative expression at all hours of the day. He's tried so hard all his life to be human, cover the uncanny valley with whatever it is that he lacks.
But the way Adam looks at him feels as if he's seen through Scott , ripped off the band-aid and peered right through his soul, and instead of freaking out, he's just accepted it.
He doesn't need the mask, because it feels like Adam never really saw it to begin with. And that idea terrifies him just as much as it excites him.
“Nah, ‘T's nothing, you look after me too” Scott doesn't look at him, instead digging in his porridge like it owes him money.
“Plus, it's for you, it's always different , if it's for you”
Scott shuts up after that , eyes wide and eyebrows rising subconsciously as he thinks about what it is he's just said. It's not that bad, right? Friends could totally say that to each other and get away with it.
But whether it's the fact that they sit close enough to bump heads or the fondness in his voice when he says it, Scott doubts he can get away with it being just a friendly, platonic comment.
“Ahh” as Scott musters up the courage to look back at the other , Adam stalls on his sentence. Scott finds himself cringing, the seconds feel like minutes as there's nothing but silence. It can't be more than three seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.
“Your… you're important to me too.”
The way in which Adam says it sounds like a death sentence, and it makes Scott's heart sink. While such a lovely phrase to hear, especially from the person you admire, the tone in which Adam says it sounds like the final passage of a book , with the essence of sweetness but with the defeatist tone of melancholy.
It makes him panic, it makes him worry. What could he have possibly done to make Adam utter that sentence with such defeat.
Was what he said really that strange, did it come off as such a blatant confession that it freaked the other out. He hadn't meant it that, or at least, he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
Hes half on the way to spiralling, going to stutter and back track , throw something, anything at the wall to smooth it over, when the door bangs open behind them.
“Oh good, you're still alive.”
If he were a weaker man, Scott would tear his hair out. Perfect, an interruption. Just what he needs.
The short woman walks into the room, a light click of her heels on the concrete floor as she heads over towards the kitchen sink. Given his terrible reaction time , it takes Adam a second, but once she enters , he jumps back , leaving an awkward space in between them.
“Cheers Jamie, ever the charmer” scott grumbles fighting the instinct to roll his eyes. Jamie only tuts at him as she grabs a glass of water.
The other is dressed in her work uniform, a crisp suit and flares, the standard for her line of service, only made individual by her black pencil skirt and stupid black heels.
“What are you still doing here? Don't you have some rich folk to go entertain or somthing.”
The smile Jamie shoots at him as she says it is infuriating, a small smirk and a raised eyebrow.
Despite the way she phrases it, entertaining the rich people is actually one of the less harrowing spy gigs Scott has going on nowadays. It can be annoying, sure, Singing and performing for stuck up wealthy assholes grinds his gears, a glorified circus performer for some rich twats restaurant, but it lacks the violence and danger a lot of other jobs his undertaken hold. It even pays alright too, if whoever the owner is is feeling generous.
It is a lot less high risk too, nobody suspects a spy to be folding costumes in a dressing room, or smearing on make-up two minutes before the show starts.
And you hear things too, which is the whole reason why he's there. The regulars know the who's who and what's what of everything going round in these circles. That's the thing about working for rich folk, if you're not important, they don't really see you. You're irrelevant, not worth the time, and why bother hiding something from someone so unimportant. Drunk rich people are the best, give it an hour or two and wait in the wings, then just watch as the owner drunkenly tells his mate just how many people he has guarding his armory. It's grand.
But who is he to Jamie, a foot man of the general's army. While technically also a spy,
She's a fighter as well.
A seamily much more respectable job. Well, if you asked her, anyway.
“Nup, not today, I've got the day off.” Scott mutters, voice flat and uninterested. “Benifits of the job , I guess”
Jamie rolls her eyes as she sips her water. She doesn't sit down, only stands against the sink.the boys eye each other awkwardly.
“Dont need to ask what you're doing today now, do I” Jamie looks at Adam over the top of her cup, eyes narrowing. “We all know what you do all day. Nada.”
Scott only stares in disbelief and horror as he watches Adam's mouth open in surprise. The man stares at Jamie with wide eyes, before closing his mouth.
“There's no lie there I guess, I suppose you're right!”
Adam's weak chuckle falls flat on its face as Scott turns to glare at Jamie from over the table , as she stares right back at him.
A famous person once said that people 'can't agree on everything’ and in terms of jamie, truer words have never been spoken. While in terms of the country's political situation, Scott and Jamie would both give their life to the cause, that doesn't mean they would agree on everything. Or anything else, for that matter.
Jamie's a dick head, in Scott's opinion. She's infuriating, a person who knows exactly what buttons to push to squeeze a reaction out of you, all for a lick of entertainment. She's callous, calculating , able to find your weakest point and zero in on it like a high school bully to your biggest insecurity.
All of which makes her a fantastic ally, but a terrible person to share a building with.
He's known her since she was tiny, they grew up together, Jamie herself also an experiment, though probably less obviously than himself. They have both seen the best and the worst of each other, in the orphanage your business is everyone's business, so Scott does have a modicum of understanding why she acts the way she does.
But his sympathies end there.
“So why are you here then?” Scott continues to glare at her. “You here just to piss us off, or did you miss us or something?”
Jamie's grip on the glass tightens as her eyes narrow, her thick black eye-liner crinkling in the corners.
“Yeah Scott, I just missed you all so much, what, with your stimulating conversation and razor sharp wit.”
Despite everything, Adam chuckles at that , only to be cut off by the glare Scott throws at him.
“What? It's a good quote! Its from that one series-”
Truth be told Scott doesn't really hear the rest of Adam's explanation, banging on about some book he read. He's too busy seething in his chair, looking about the good morning he was having being stood on and thrown out the window, all by Jamie's stupid black kitten heels. Maybe he's just quick to anger today, or maybe it's his nerves, but he's feeling jumpy.
Jamie doesn't do things for no reason, she's here for something. As much as Scott despises her sometimes, he's not as naive as to discount her. Why she's lurking around in the kitchen on some random morning, He can't figure it out, but he knows one thing. It's nothing good.
“Your files are missing.” Jamie says abruptly, interrupting whatever tangent Adam was on. She eyes him like a Cat would eye a skink, calculated, threatening.
“Not your main ones, but the back ups they keep down in the North-end of Diana. People talk, you know?”
She takes another sip, still eyeing him closely. In his periphery, he sees Adam turn his head in question. He feels his adrenaline spike, his stomach dropping like the floor fell out from under him.
“Yeah, and?” He tries to keep his cool, but it's painfully obvious that he's anything but. Even he can hear it in his voice, as he fights the urge to cringe.
“As you said, their back ups. They're probably out-dated anyway. They've still got me on file.”
He doesn't know why Caitlin had Percy steal his file, or what she plans to do with it, but he knows Caitlin well enough that if she went out of her way to do that, there's probably a reason. Similar to Jamie, while Caitlin grinds his gears, he would be an idiot to not acknowledge that she's wicked smart, much to Scott's annoyance. Plus, Caitlin is his sister's girlfriend, so he has to play nice.
Something else is at play here, and he's not sure what it is. It's all too confusing, and he can't put it together. He's not going to rat caitlin out, especially to Jamie, even if they are on the same side, but both of their behaviour is pissing him off.
“Mhmm yeah, but it's all a little bit too convenient isn't it?” She says it like a fact, not a question. “We can't have it falling into the wrong hands now. Can we? Who knows what will get out…”
Ah, there it is. The last two sentences Jamie utters are said through a small smirk, partially obscured by that stupid glass of water she keeps sipping. It's starting to click for Scott, though missing a few pieces.
Like he said, she's smarter than he wishes she was. She had to be, growing up as an experiment in the orphanage. She has managed to clock something that she shouldn't have access to.
As she smirks at him, flicking her eyes over to Adam, Scott feels his stomach fall onto the floor. She knows, she knows he likes him. because of course she does. Maybe Percy told her, they were close, or maybe scott was just so dam obvious that she sniffed it out herself. It doesn't matter how she found out.
He knows she might not understand how bad this is for him, how much he feared this happening. He's not ready to deal with this yet. Part of him thinks that she probably does, she's always been a bit mean and catty, truth be told he and Jamie never really got along.
“Hang on a minute” its adams turn to speak, leaning back on his chair to look at Jamie.
“What went missing? Scott's birth certificate or something?”
He's panicking internally now, as he feels his stomach drop and his hands go numb.
He never told Adam about this. Never told him about his upbringing, about who he was, what he was. Scott likes to think that it just never came up, but he knows that's a bold faced lie. He put effort into hiding it.
It was just so much easier that way, and it was fun to pretend. Pretend that he was normal, that he grew up in a normal orphanage for normal kids, not one that housed government experiments. That he was just a normal person that got to have one nice experience with the guy they liked, before he inevitably found out and ran away.
Life hasn't come easy to Scott, and relationships even less so. Whether it was romantic or platonic , the uncanny valley vibe was enough to freak a lot of people out. People are cruel, and he's come to feel that it's just the way life is, so there's no use hiding anything.
Until there was Adam. God, Adam didn't care about the awkwardness, or the fact that his smile was creepy or off putting. When the twins arrived, Percy had been put off by him, subtly, but Scott could tell. Adam, however, did not seem perturbed, and just talked his ear off like he did anybody else.
But Adam never knew about this, the creepy genetic stuff. The fact he was essentially a lab experiment, the fact that when it was all said and done, Scott just wasn't really all that human.
So far Adam had managed to look past everything else, but this was at a different level. This was WEIRD, not just odd , like most other things about him. This was unnatural, inhuman.
Scott just wants it to last a little bit longer. Heaven forbid scott have anything nice. Maintain the illusion of a normal life with the boy he likes. Scott knew this would bite him in the ass in the end, but as the charade went on, he just got swept further into the lie.
And now it's over. Christ, how could he have ever been so stupid.
Jamie merely shrugs at Adam's comment.
“I don't know, just government documents, or something like that. Hey, don't shoot the messenger!” Jamie puts her glass on the table, hands up in mock surrender.
Adam only nods before turning back to Scott with a worried look on his face. Scott flinches as he feels Adam touch his arm, firm, meant to be reassuring. But it doesn't reassure Scott. In fact, he flinches when he feels Adam's hand.
It doesn't even register that it's Adam touching him, not really. In that instance it's just another hand holding him down, physically or metaphorically.
It reminds him of his days in the orphanage, being strapped down and taken for testing, his five year old hands flailing in vain to rip the laughing gas mask off his face as they hold him down.
It doesn't matter what situation life throws at him, be it that memory or this situation. He's never the one in control
It's a terrifying image, one that he doesn't want to see. He doesn't want anyone to see him like that, not the people who live here , not Jamie and especially not Adam.
He needs to leave. He needs to get away from here. He needs to sort this out. He needs to kill Caitlin and ask her why in the hell she needed to do this now. Hastily he gets up from his chair, the wooden legs scratching the floor dully.
“Fuck you-” scott all but spits in jamies direction, stumbling slightly as his sweater gets caught on the chairs wooden arms rest. He can hear Adam ask something from behind him but he doesn't care, too busy feeling the hot sting of shame in his gut.
“Woah, ouch” Jamie drawls, she says it like a sibling would too agitate you, prodding and poking until you explode. “What did I do? Come to check in on you and this is the thanks I get?”
“Wait, hold on!” Adam stands up too, though slowly, with caution. “What- what's going on?”
As Scott catches his eye, he feels his heart sink. Worry on Adam's face is evident, by wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows that look at him with worry. Pity. God, the pity makes him feel worse.
It's been ages since someone has looked at him like that. Very few people pity him nowadays, but he still loathes it. His sister used to look at him like that, as she had to calm him down as when he'd panic at the doctors. Amy, his best mate, when she had to hold his hair back as he threw up in the toilet. And Adam, as he watched Scott struggle with his arm when the injury was fresh.
The pity scares him. Whether he's scared of disappointing the other, scared of the result or scared of the consequence, the end result is all the same.
Scott ends up running away
“I need'a- look, I need to go-” scott all but stutters out, trying all his might to add even a hint of assurance into his statement. This only makes Adam frown harder , as he goes to reach out to Scott again.
“I'm fine, iv just gotta- iv gotta go sort something out-”
And if either party responds, he doesn't hear it, too in his own head. He's hastily turning on his heels and quickly walking away.
As he flings himself through the kitchen door, striding down the hallway, he feels his eyes begin to water , as he wipes his nose with his sleeve.
It's those allergies again, god damn it.
Or at least that's what he tells himself.
