~*~

"The rest of the semester? You can’t go anywhere for the rest of the semester?! Dude, that’s like, prison."

"You’re sharp, bullet. What was homework in literature class last night?"

Adam, despite his mother’s wishes, lounged casually on his bed on the phone, staring up at the ceiling in a bored fashion. Jeremy, on the other line, was going into hysterics about how Adam’s mother needed to get over herself and treat her daughter as badly as she treated Adam.

"I mean, serious. Amy gets away with a ton more stuff than you do, and you just take it all in stride. Doesn’t that bug you in the least?"

"Not particularly. Amy’s four," Adam said dryly. "If she was, like, ten or eleven, then maybe. There’s a twelve year age gap between Amy and me, so I guess that there’s the excuse right there."

"Well…still." Jeremy sounded slightly embarrassed, but went on nevertheless. "She’s playing favorites."

"Oh shut up, Jeremy. What did we have for homework in literature class?" Adam prodded again, sounding impatient.

Jeremy sighed on the other line and Adam heard the shuffling of papers and the unzipping of a binder. After a moment, Jeremy made an affirmative noise and said, "Nothing much. Just read the next few acts in Hamlet and be ready for a quiz on it next Tuesday."

"That’s it?" Adam said, surprised. "Well, how about Algebra?"

"Nothing. The teacher’s on her honeymoon and we have a substitute who doesn’t like teaching."

"History?"

"Same."

Adam gave a brief cry of glee which faded into a dispirited whine as he heard the thunder of his step-father’s fist upon his bedroom door, George shouting, "Adam! If you’re on the phone, boy, I’m going to ream you a new ass!"

"Piss off!" Adam shouted back and grinned at the laughter on the other line. His door was locked.

"Sweet! Adam, you are so gonna get grounded for all eternity when he tells your mom, aren’t you?"

Adam snorted and drawled, "Like I give a damn," the stiffened as he heard the clicking and scraping of a coat hanger. George was trying to pick the lock to his room.

"Shit," he murmured, and quickly hung up the phone.

He looked around his room swiftly, noted the open window. He grabbed his coat off of the back of his chair and pulled it on, then made a dash for the window—

—just as George plowed in and grabbed his arm, his bad arm, and jerked it back. Adam felt his nerves explode in a fiery array of agony and lava and voiced a sharp scream of pain. His knees buckled and he clawed at the windowsill, desperate to get away from his step-father.

But George’s hold was true. He pinned Adam against the window and wrenched his arm around backwards until an unnerving crunch was heard. Adam voiced another shrill cry that was muffled as George clamped a hand firmly over the teenager’s mouth. He bent in near Adam’s ear.

"I got away with killing your father, Adam," he whispered snidely, "so don’t think I can’t get away with doing you in either."

"Get your fucking hands off me," Adam spat into his step-father’s hand. George twisted Adam’s arm further until a distinct snapping sound could be heard, and Adam cried out again, a strangled sound of pain.

"You’d better not disobey me, kiddo, or something bad might happen to Amy."

His voice was hoarse from tears, and Adam suddenly knew why he was so afraid of George. If watching him murder Alan Harper hadn’t been bad enough…no, he couldn’t let that happen to Amy too.

After a long, silent pause, George crudely snapped Adam’s arm back into place and tightened the brace around the bones. Adam didn’t meet his gaze, but slumped against the wall and curled up on himself. After a pause, George stood up and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

Adam lay limp against the floor, wishing to God that his mother would get home from her night shift at the supermarket.

But as soon as George put out the lamp in his bedroom, with is bag packed, Adam was out of his house.

There was only one place in New Hope where he knew he could go, and be safe. Jeremy’s house. Ms. Gordon was a widow who knew about the abusive treatment that George bestowed upon Adam, and many times she had attempted to have him removed from the home. But George had voices in high places, and every time she had tried, she had failed. So now that he got the chance, Adam fled. Through ten city blocks, past the private school that he attended, and straight to the apartment complex he had visited so many times as a small child.

He slumped to the ground in front of the door, too weak to even lift his wrists. But after a moments recovery, he let his tears roll down his face and pounded as swiftly on the wooden door as he could, crying out weakly.

"Ms. Gordon? Jeremy? Anyone? …Help.."

The door opened after about ten minutes, and Jeremy appeared. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a white tank top, his short blonde hair slightly messy atop his head. When he saw Adam there, he knelt down and gripped his shoulders.

"Adam!? Dude, what’s wrong…Adam?"

For Adam had all but fallen into Jeremy’s arms, his own one good arm encircling his friend’s shoulders and back, and Adam sobbed there for all he was worth, the pain in his arm too great to conceal. Jeremy slumped back partially onto the floor of his apartment. He lifted his arms up to gently comfort Adam, his voice softer, more sure.

"C’mon, man, let’s get inside…you look like you’ve been up all night."

"I have," Adam croaked and buried his face in the small of Jeremy’s neck, "I’ve been running from George…he broke my arm again, Jeremy, he broke it…he threatened to hurt Amy and me, to kill us just like he killed Dad…"

"Adam, c’mon, let’s get inside…you can rest and I’ll…I dunno, make some hot chocolate or some shit. It’s frigid out here." Jeremy tried to smile, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and was lost once he saw the stricken expression on Adam’s face. He sighed and stood up, trying his best to support the weight of the other boy as well as his own. Adam was exhausted and hardly able to stand.

Jeremy’s apartment was quaint and homely. It was only four rooms and two bathrooms, but it was enough for Jeremy and his mother. Jeremy half carried half dragged Adam over to the couch and lay him down there. Adam curled up on himself again.

Jeremy sat down next to him and gently removed the heavy, drenched winter jacket from Adam’s form. He was careful with the injured arm. He folded it up and set it on the coffee table, then gently ran his fingers through Adam’s tousled brown hair, just as his mother had done for him whenever he was hurt or ill.

"It’s okay, man…you’re safe now. Che, if your step-dad tried anything now, not even his high-talking fancy ass holes in the court system would be able to keep you in that house." He tried to smile again, tried to bring a glint of hope into his light blue eyes. "Hey, you could always run away here, stay with me and Mom. She’s okay with it you know."

But Adam couldn’t answer. He was lost in a whirlwind of pain and confusion and comfort. The pain in his arm was unbelievable, and yet he was safe…? And then…

He shifted his weight off of his injured arm and tried to sit up. He frowned as Jeremy drew his fingers back from his hair.

"I could stay here?" he whispered softly, hopefully.

Jeremy smiled again and shrugged a shoulder, a familiar grin turning up the corners of his lips. "Yeah, if you can put up with us," he joked, but the serious tone in his words sent a ripple of relief throughout Adam’s entire form. He smiled weakly and slumped back against the couch, let his eyes close.

"Thanks, Jeremy," he whispered, but he didn’t hear Jeremy’s response, because he was already asleep. Jeremy watched him for a few more moments, then gently draped a quilt over him. He stood up and went back to bed.

~*~

Adam woke up the next morning and his first thought was that he was late for school. The second was a flash of fear, not recognizing where it was he was sleeping. He was in a living room of some sort, and his arm didn’t hurt as much as it had the previous night…why had his arm been hurting?

"Oh, you’re awake?"

Adam looked over his shoulder and blinked in puzzlement. Ms. Gordon stood near the kitchen, looking out at him with a soft smile on her face.

She was young in appearance, for she hadn’t had the opportunity to sit around and collect extra fat like his own mother had. Ms. Gordon worked constantly to pay the bills for her apartment and to take care of Jeremy. She was petite and quite pretty; when he was little, Adam had often wished that she was his mother.

He tried to smile. "Good morning, Ms. Gordon."

"Good morning, Adam," she replied and sat down on the couch next to him. She reached out and took his good hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Jeremy’s at school and your mother and step-father think you’ve booked a jet to Canada. They’re searching for you there. I’ve got my lawyer working out a statement to get you out of that house and…"

"Jeremy…said I could stay here," Adam admitted weakly. He wasn’t sure whether or not Jeremy had practiced verity when he spoke, but one look from Ms. Gordon told him the truth: Jeremy never lied.

"Of course you can, sweetie," Ms. Gordon said with a soft tone in her voice. She lifted her other hand to touch Adam’s cheek and smiled sheepishly. "We don’t have much as far as room is concerned, but we try our best. Just make yourself comfortable for now. You’ll be back in school in a couple of weeks."

Jeremy came home later that afternoon, sweaty from soccer practice. He pushed open the door, announced, "I’m home!" and threw his back pack and binder onto the couch near the door.

Adam was sitting at the kitchen table reading one of Jeremy’s books, weak still from pain. When he heard Jeremy’s voice, he called back, "You mom’s gone out to visit your grandmother or something and told me to tell you to order pizza. Money’s on the table."

Jeremy all but bounced into the kitchen and smiled gleefully at his friend. "Hey!" he chirped and sat down across from him, leaning against the table. "Did you get much rest?"

"I got enough," Adam admitted and closed the book. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "So, how was school?"

Jeremy shrugged and began rattling off his day. "Well, Louise was all freaked out about your car crash and crap and she asked me to tell you hi whenever we talked. Brian and Pete are pissed about you missing the finals in the tournament this weekend, but they understand." He thought for a moment. "Hmm….let’s see. Oh, your teachers say that since you were in a wreck that you can just take lots of quizzes instead of making up your work. I can’t decide on whether or not that’s a good thing so…yeah, that’s about it."

Adam blinked impassively, then stretched out and slumped against the table, sighing. "Louise still has a thing for me?" he inquired miserably.

"Well, you did sleep with her, Adam," Jeremy pointed out, but Adam growled.

"I didn’t sleep with her! God, is that what the whole damn school thinks? It was just a little making out in the car, and we were drunk, nothing else."

Jeremy shrugged softly and shook his head. "S’not any of my business who you mess around with, man, but just be careful. Her brother is a serious jock and crap and he beat the shit out of the last guy who broke her heart."

"I’m not a heart breaker," Adam said firmly and set his jaw.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. "You’ve got a rep for being one."

"Oh, so now you’re turning against me too huh?" Adam said defensively, then kicked himself at the wounded look that crossed Jeremy’s good-natured features. He whispered, "I’m sorry…really, I am."

"S’okay," Jeremy said and tried to coax a smile on after his words, but he failed. An uncomfortable silence ensued, and Jeremy bit his lip before standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Adam frowned, then stood up and followed. Jeremy went into his room and made to close the door, but Adam was quicker than that and caught it before it could close all the way.

"Jeremy, don’t…"

"I don’t know who told you, Adam, but if you’re going to drop me after all of the shit we’ve been through then just go ahead and go back to your mom’s," Jeremy snapped back, his voice suddenly very emotional. "I take enough shit about it from school, and people are beginning to talk about you too."

Adam paused and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then, when he felt the lapse in Jeremy’s strength, he pushed the door open completely and stepped inside. Jeremy backed away and hurried to his window, where he stood in a miserable fashion.

"Hold on a minute, Jeremy, you’re confusing me…"

"Get out," Jeremy protested weakly and leaned against his wall, staring outside at the back alley and the brief glint of sunset visible there. He closed his eyes and let his voice fall. "Just…get out."

Adam was motionless for a moment, then took a step back and waited in the doorway. Jeremy didn’t move. Adam watched him in silence, then looked aside and closed the door. He heard a faint sniffle from inside, but he didn’t knock again. He weakly made his way to the spare bedroom.

‘Jeremy…what’s wrong with you…’

~*~

The next morning was a Saturday. Adam woke up at the sound of light tapping on his bedroom door. He shifted over and turned on the light next to his bed and murmured, "Come in," hoarsely, thinking it was Ms. Gordon.

Jeremy quietly cracked the door and peered in at Adam. Adam blinked in confusion and sat up some, running his fingers through his hair.

Jeremy tried to smile and said in a whisper, "Hey."

Adam nodded and motioned him in. "Hey," he replied in an equally soft whisper.

Jeremy stepped inside and let the door close behind himself. He stood there for a moment. "I looked in on my mom," he said, "and she’s already gone to work. She left a note for us in the kitchen." Long, awkward pause. "I just…I thought you might want to know, so you wouldn’t freak out or something—"

"Jeremy, what’s wrong with you?" Adam said, his voice waking up slightly in his words. Jeremy stiffed and winced lightly at the tone, as if someone had just tightened a collar around his neck and pressed a cattle prod against his back.

"A-Adam, I…"

"You can tell me, man. You could be gay or something and you’d still be my best friend," Adam insisted. And it was true, because he wanted to keep Jeremy by his side forever. They were inseparable, best friends. They were close, they told eachother everything, they were meant for…Adam cut off his train of thought.

And Jeremy didn’t answer.

Adam felt his blood run suddenly cold. His lips parted softly in astonishment, and Jeremy bit his lip, averted his gaze. He began softly, "I-I understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, Adam, honestly I do. Casey and Mike won’t have anything to do with me either, and I told them because…because I didn’t think that I was in love with them."

Adam still couldn’t speak. His lips moved, but he could find no words and Jeremy took it as a rejection. Blush lit up his cheeks and he turned to face the wall, his hands balled up into fists.

"I’ll tell my mom that you don’t want to stay here anymore, it’s all right. I won’t make you tell her, because I know how much of a gentlemen you are.."

Adam found his voice.

"I don’t want to go, Jeremy."

Jeremy stopped. He looked at Adam closely for a moment, to see if he was serious or if he was being sarcastic.

"Adam, what…"

It was suddenly so clear in Adam’s mind. All the jealousy that he felt of the girls who hung around Jeremy, all the spite he felt for the football jocks who pummeled him into the ground, all of the anger he felt towards the father who had left him with no one but his mother and a small apartment…

The friendship they’d had since fourth grade, the teams they’d tried out for since they could walk, the arguments that Adam just couldn’t leave be…

The way that making love to all the girls he dated never brought about anything but what it was meant to…he might as well have been by himself.

He thought of the way Jeremy’s smile made his troubles melt away. He thought of Jeremy’s hair, his light-colored skin. The way that his fingers felt so nice when they traced through Adam’s hair…

He stood up and crossed the room in a stride, slightly off balance from sleep, and pinned Jeremy to the wall in a fierce embrace. He couldn’t let go, not even when his arm screamed in pain, and he felt a warm flush throughout the rest of his body as the weight of Jeremy’s arms were present around his back and shoulders.

The way Jeremy’s breath sounded like life in his ears…

He didn’t speak, neither of them did. All was said in that simple show of affection. Adam gained the courage after a period of motionless to trace his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, just as Jeremy had through his. He felt Jeremy swallow, heard the bob of his throat at the movement. He was so human…so amazingly human, and he felt so real…

Adam felt the rumble of Jeremy’s voice down in his chest, their arms wrapped around one another desperately. "Adam," Jeremy said into his ear.

"Yeah?" Adam replied. He drew back enough so that their noses brushed and let his forehead rest against Jeremy’s. Jeremy swallowed, then smiled and whispered, "Are you going to break my heart too…?"

"I…" Adam couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t. There was no way he could. Things might not work and they might find that being friends is better than being lovers. He closed his eyes.

"I can’t promise that I won’t…because I’m a selfish bastard and you know I end up ruining everything…"

He felt Jeremy shiver.

"…but I can try to be everything you need me to be…because…"

Jeremy tilted his face closer to brush his lips over Adam’s top lip, and Adam whispered, "Because….I love you Jeremy…"

Jeremy softly covered Adam’s lips with his own, and they stood there for a pause. Then, Adam drew back and looked at his clock.

"It’s still pretty early," said Jeremy, who also looked at the clock. Adam nodded faintly, then tightened his arms around Jeremy slightly.

"Just…lie there with me?"

Jeremy leaned into the embrace softly and nodded. "Yeah. ‘Course."

Adam didn’t need to hear Jeremy say it back. He knew. They curled up together on the bed and didn’t move. Not even when the Saturday morning cartoons came on.