#in which adri reminds everyone he's a sheep

[one-winged-dreams]

Need my f/os to do this to me rn

[no pr/oship]

[escxpiism]

triggers: drug use & drugging implications, suicidal ideation (and serious consideration!), grooming (especially july 4th!!!!!!!), kidnapping/captivity (ofc)

infection, not a phase

“ for all the times you let them bleed you, for a little peace from god you plead. ”

---------------------------------------------------------------

it would be a lie to say she hadn’t thought of luke’s untimely death time and time again. for all she had been told -- for the amount of times she’d been told she shouldn’t think of it as ‘untimely’ -- it remained degrees beyond difficult. he was, in many ways, her savior. but the thoughts and memories now resurfaced with a passion.

for what a terrible person she was. what she had done to repay him for the favor she had asked for. what she had done when he’d given her so much. when he’d risked himself for her.

june 13th, 2013 ; 8:43PM - 11:13 PM:

who could she turn to ? she couldn’t relent and go back, not after what anna said after allen finally took it too far. finally went past the point of no return. there was no more pretending he could love her, not after the shake’s confirmation. she couldn’t turn to a friend. they knew her friends far too well. she couldn’t turn to her boyfriend. they knew him far too well. they would all be the first and last places they would check -- assuming they would bother to check.

there was one person who she knew she could always seek refuge in. but whether he was accepting guests at that hour or not, caring for his ailing father as he was, was a gamble. but considering for too long would risk someone close to them seeing her. considering for too long would risk a return before she was truly ready. so, for the first time in years, she acted upon impulse.

rapping on the door, that familiar face came to open it. and she already saw concern in his eyes -- concern before she said anything. perhaps that was what tears generated. concern. empathy. there was a lingering pause before he finally broke the silence that she couldn’t bring herself to. “ do you need to come in ? ”

she nodded in response. need. perhaps he did know her as well as she hoped he did. after a moment’s consideration, she asked, “ am i... is your dad... ? ” and he shook his head. because he was concerned. whatever that meant, he was it.

“ no, he’s fine. he’s asleep. ” how many days of sleep did he have left ? his eyebrows furrowed, closing the door behind her. “ what... what happened ? ” and then, in the most responsible voice he could muster, “ why didn’t you go to one of your friends’ ? ”

“ that’s where they think i’m gonna be. she told me. ” and it would be easier, but she couldn’t admit defeat.

he huffed, frustrated with himself for his weakness. “ it’ll look bad if people find out i let a sixteen-year-old stay the night. ”

“ but, no -- they would have to understand. i... you didn’t have a choice -- i came to you, he hurt me. and it’ll -- it’ll just be tonight. i promise. ”

a pullout couch. blankets layered on top of each other. a sympathetic half-smile. sad. concerned. but who was he concerned for ?

“ thank you, luke. i promise -- i promise it’ll just be for the night. and i can... i can say i was in a park or something. ”

he nodded his head, that same sad smile plastered on his face. those same concerned eyes. a swollen heart. “ you know, i think you’d like santa monica. ” what beautiful parks his neighborhood possessed. he then offered a few pats, restraining himself. “ have sweet dreams, alice. ”

it was a pretty little disguise. a lozenge, wrapped in a pretty little pill ! it would be so easy. stay on that rooftop, drown in the bottle. finally be the fool who fell. or choke on her guilt as her breathing slowed beyond what she could control, allow her heart to sink in. she was there. right at the ledge of masters’ rooftop. sitting on it. legs dangling over the city. and they were in her hand. one... two... three... there could be more if she wanted.

how funny it would be. be the fool who finally falls, credit to the reason so many fools went up there in the first place. she set the bottle down. held the railing beside her with one hand, rings clanging against the metal.

august 29th, 2013 ; 3:47PM - 9:08PM:

she had gotten him wrong. beyond a wolf in sheep’s clothing -- everything off about him had always seemed nothing but endearing to her before. everything that made him a menace now simply made him so captivating before -- his penchant for keeping secrets. but what were the other secrets he kept ? who else had he had, dancing under his thumb ? who else had he enchanted, only to destroy in the end ? or was she special ? as he always said -- as she didn’t want to believe anymore. or maybe she did, but no longer for the same reason.

the keys had been dropped, a clang he didn’t notice beyond her yelling. to which he reminded her that no one could hear her. and no one was looking for her. because she was safe with him -- all reports she sent back implied safety. a wavering voice, perhaps, but one her sister wouldn’t recognize. not when they barely recognized each other’s regular voices ( something alice had tried to change one too many times, but to no avail -- if, by some miracle, she was found... what would be the use ? ) his back was turned, ever the warden in every sense of the word. but what good warden would drop the keys and not so much as realize it ?

although they were mere feet away, it was with great hesitation that she bent down to collect them. but it was with great primal urge that she rushed to him, to the door, and jammed the key inside. a click. freedom in sight. her only obstacle now in front of her, blocking her every move. overpowering her. taking her wrists as she tried with all her might to fight him. to push him out. but he stood like a rock.

“ i do everything for you. ” a calm statement. “ and this is how you repay me ? ” and it was with unfortunate ease that he forced her back into the cellar. recollected the keys. shook his head in disappointment -- disappointment in himself.

he disappeared. and how close she’d been... the closest she’d ever gotten. a collapse. how weak she was. every level -- too weak to fight through him, so weak she’d turned to him, so weak she’d let herself fall for him. so weak that he called her special. her first chance. her only chance.

...

some hours later ( she assumed ), he reentered. with a sigh, he extended an olive branch: a glass of water. and when she began fading ( this was new ), he began a slight spiel. “ i’m so sorry, alice... but you had to know this would be coming after a stunt like that. ” a promise to still shower. a promise to still take care of all necessities. but with something new, something important. “ i wish i didn’t have to do this. ”

and when she regained complete consciousness, one hand was cuffed to a metal pole within the cellar.

all hopes of escaping left her mind.

“ this is your life now. i’m sorry. ”

this wasn’t her life. this wasn’t the life she deserved. just as that wasn’t the ending he deserved. but perhaps this was the ending she deserved. a mess of broken bones, nearly unrecognizable. by the time they finally found the right person to identify her, be they one of her sisters or joey or phoenix or adri, it would be too late. they could only keep severed remains for so long -- or so she’d heard.

and pills may be too peaceful. falling asleep. not waking up. but watching death near her, watching it come straight to her from 600 feet or so. everything slowing down. her memories flashing. memories of him. memories of where she went wrong. memories of who she once was. memories of a life she once lived. memories that made her strong and memories that made her weak. memories of how everything started.

march 1st, 2013 ; 5:14PM - 5:24PM:

a neighborhood gala to ring in the honorary start of spring, a common one thrown by the adams. the show they put on was always beautiful. the perfect family, close on all fronts. for that one night, they were like the fantasy family sitcoms. she played the mini-mother, as did her sisters. they were all to act humble as their parents shared their latest achievements and accolades.

but there was a new face in the crowd this time.

“ as some of y’all may have noticed, richard wasn’t able to make it tonight. i know we’re all keeping him in our prayers... ” a moment of silence, as if he was already dead. “ but let’s all give a warm old welcome to his son and caretaker, luke johnson. he came in all the way from california just to help his dad and our friend, and if that ain’t the type of hospitality we’re looking for down here, i don’t know what is. ”

he smiled. he raised his champagne flute. he mouthed a ‘thank you’ as the inevitable clapping began. because to be introduced in such a fashion by anna adams was nothing short of an honor.

alice felt a draw to him. his silent charisma alone. and she did one thing she would always regret, for one reason or another: she walked towards him in his tan suit.

she, as she was taught in all etiquette courses, extended a hand. and he took it, shook it. and there was an immediate moment of connection.

“ i’m luke. ”

a laugh. “ i think everyone knows that after my ma’s introduction. it’s a real honor, y’know. ” she met his eyes. “ i’m alice. ”

so what was stopping her in that moment ? she’d done it before. she could do it again. and she could succeed. because, from so many feet above, there was no turning back. there was no stomach pump. there were no bandages and stitches. all there was was concrete and the onlookers of a city that never cared. from 600 feet or so above, there would not just be broken bones. there would not just be maiming. she was too close to the night sky for that.

she tilted forward, gaining a better view of the streets and all the passersby in the moonlight. the harmony of honking taxis and screaming pedestrians. the light show of times square somewhere in the distance and the neon sign of the adult shop that situated itself in front of the building. ‘open. 24 hours.’ it blinked, green and red.

july 4th, 2013 ; 7:45PM - 10:00PM:

“ i know you’ve got other traditions you’re used to, ” luke began, desperately attempting to spread out a picnic blanket, “ but i don’t think you’ve ever gotten to see fireworks from this high up, have you ? it can be a new one. ”

they didn’t have a cook-out. he just bought in-n-out. it wasn’t like home. and maybe there were aspects of home that she didn’t miss, but the annual neighborhood cook-out was one thing she truly did. even if she had to pretend her family was something it wasn’t, it was always so nice. mingling, talking to the neighbors, catching up, talking about the firecrackers ( and it was always the michaels’ kids setting them off, which was something to talk about all on its lonesome ! ). “ is this how you spend all your fourths ? ” she asked, turning to luke as he continued fighting the wind.

“ mhm. ” he nodded. “ usually i’m alone, though. ” he took a break from his battle with the wind to look her in the eyes and offer that same sad smile he had so many nights ago. “ i’m glad i’m not this year. ”

when he finally conquered the picnic blanket, punctuated by an ‘aha!,’ he was quick to set the bag on one corner and himself on the opposite. he patted the corner next to him  and she took a seat. oh, how she would be lying if she said it wasn’t a beautiful view. so high up, she felt as though she was above the entire state.

she sighed, unsure whether it was one of disappointment or content. perhaps both. but, looking at the sky as the sun set, she met his eyes and mirrored his sad smile. “ i’m glad you’re not alone this year, too. ”

and there they sat, making idle chit-chat. how was work? how was your day? only a few more months until your birthday. wasn’t your birthday exactly a month ago? i know you miss your home, but this is for the best. i know you miss your dad, i’m sorry. what were your childhood fourth traditions? do you miss them? how did you find this place? when did you start coming up here? i’m glad i could share this with you. i’m glad i could be here.

9:45PM came with ease, barely realizing any time had passed since they first sat down. the crackles in the sky were their only hint that the show had started at all. “ you know what we do every year down back home ? ” alice asked, body facing luke, eyes facing the sky.

with an enchanted smile, he shook his head. “ no -- what is it ? ”

“ so, during the show, we’ll say something like ‘that next firework’s’ some neighbor’s name. ” she shrugged. “ it’s a little dumb, i know, but... it was always a fun way to pa- ”

“ this next firework is alice, ” he interrupted. green and red shot into the air, a quiet crack. “ like that ? ” he asked, turning back to her with a smile -- a real one.

she returned that real smile and nodded. “ like that. ”

“ you had a pretty firework, i’m a little bit jealous. ”

“ well... this next firework’s luke. ” and into the air went a loud blue and purple explosion. “ see ? you got a pretty firework too. ”

and into the night they went, naming fireworks after each other until the show was over. until they deemed the finale them.

if it were the daytime, perhaps she would have had an audience by now. she was putting on her very own show, wasn’t she ? after all, if she couldn’t go to prison for him, the least she could do was join him. why had she let him do it alone ? why had she taken the gun ? and why did it only have one bullet ? something so off about that single bullet.

october 26th, 2013 ; 7:11PM - 7:14PM:

she failed. she had chosen the keys in favor of his overdosed body. but what a good actor he had been. saline solution. just saline solution. ( or perhaps he was bad, but she was too out of it to realize. )

whatever the case, it had been some hours. maybe some days. before he reentered for anything other than the average schedule. open door. close. lock. tuck away. “ i need you to know that i’m not a monster, ” he prefaced, withdrawing a vinyl copy of stevie nicks’s ‘bella donna’. “ i’ll bring down the record player with dinner. ”

she cocked her head to the side. a gift. remorse ? perhaps. but he had done this before, and all she’d received was an apology.

“ i wouldn’t starve you out on your birthday. happy seventeenth. ”

march 10th, 2014 ; 11:09PM - 11:15PM:

the last date she remembered was christmas. she had lost count since. how many days, weeks, months it had been, she wasn’t sure. he would still take her out of the room for extended periods of time every now and again. and for that, she remained grateful. he would never let her leave. she knew that. but at least he created illusions.

the door opened. it did not lock. it did not close. he stood in the doorway. he walked over. she said nothing. he looked into her eyes. she saw sadness. she saw fear. she saw happiness. he was always hard to read.

he took the keys from his pocket and undid the handcuff. it was hard to process. a free hand. an open door. the only obstacle was, once again, him. but her automatic response was not to run. he set the keys down on the island. “ can you stand ? ”

she could. she did.

“ i know the end is near, and i don’t want you to remember me like... that. i want you to remember me like this, or like the guy i was when we watched the fireworks. do you remember that ? ” he began, that familiar sad smile accompanying his question. and she nodded. “ i’m going to close my eyes and stay here for ten seconds. do whatever you need to do, ” he stated, sliding the keys in her direction before covering his eyes and beginning to count down from ten.

this was her chance. her first, true chance. she slowly slid the keys off the table, taking five of the numbers in his countdown to do so. but she didn’t move any further. why didn’t she move any further ? it was as though she was paralyzed from the waist down. would she miss this ? would she miss him ? was this truly all she knew now ?

was this her life now ?

when he uncovered her eyes, saw her still standing there, that sad smile returned. “ you should’ve gone, alice... but thank you. ” he gently took the keys from her again. “ i’m sorry, ” he stated as he attached the handcuff again. “ i’ll make a good breakfast tomorrow. ”

and she slid down the pole, unsure of what had just happened. but as he tucked the keys back in his pocket, she heard them clang against another piece of metal.

there weren’t just two obstacles.

there was only one obstacle now. but it was one she always had such difficulty beating. she could never get her feet to move when she wanted them to, not when it was important. so there she remained, the very edge of the ledge, feet against the side of the building. one push off. one stretch of her legs.

another ‘pill.’ round it out. numb it. move forward. an inch away. perhaps she can be seen now. perhaps she would be like those movies. a crowd gathers in morbid curiosity. everyone both does and does not want her to fall.

and how close she was. until the nightshift remembered the roof. and there was a comprehensive list of people she would always refuse to traumatize: one of whom was sal.