Barely Hanging On The Edge Of Lonely (3/3)
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there's a thin line 'tween the dark side and the light side
Kris has a lot of time in his hands. There's nothing to do but stare at the walls that he can now make out against the darkness. He's not afraid anymore - the terrified feeling of being trapped without escape has long been substituted by a resignation he never thought he'd have in him. Kris can just close his eyes and dream of a more peaceful place to be, an escapism he only allows himself to have when his fear threatens to take over him.
He's been called to the same room with the same people several times, and each of them has been to be judged about his suspicious relationship with Adam. Kris is tired and cranky and can't think straight; he hasn't showered in so long - he's allowed a little bathroom time every few days but it isn't enough, never enough - and his face is itchy because he hasn't shaved in even longer. And though they give him food, Kris can hardly call a piece of old bread and a glass of water a meal. He only has his fantasies to escape to, so he claims his hiding place whenever he can.
It happens, more and more often as the days roll by, that his dreaming brings him memories of past times when he was happy with Adam. In any other circumstances, Kris wouldn't have minded - he'd just relish in the memory of their first times together on Idol. But after all he's lived through, the mere thought of Adam Lambert is enough to make him question himself.
He never believed before that there could be more in what he shares with Adam. Everyone else - the fans, the media, Katy herself it seems - kept insisting on the fact that they'd grown inseparable, but to Kris it had just been a logical progression. Just like on many other seasons before theirs, as winner and runner up they'd gone through so much together, so many experiences no one else would ever understand. Kris never caught on all the gossip running around about his supposedly unfaithful love life, and he never gave much credit to those who claimed to have photographic proof of his escapades with Adam.
But apparently Katy had, and now he's in this predicament because of that. So, when his mind insists on pulling up images of Adam, Kris fights it hard, tooth and nail. He doesn't need the torture of thinking about his best friend when there's a threat hanging over his head.
Only he can't stop himself, and when for the third time in a row - he's given up on trying to count the time - he wakes up with the lingering feeling of Adam's fingers touching his skin, Kris knows he can't deny it any longer.
So maybe, somewhere along the trip to celebrity and top charts, he fell for his best friend. Who happened to be a man. While Kris himself was still married. With a woman.
He'd stop thinking about it but there's nothing else to do, and even the headache it's giving him isn't as bad as the migraine staring at the walls usually gives him. So he thinks.
He thinks about the endless nights on tour when he was too wired up to sleep and Adam was there to soothe his worries away. He thinks about the moment he realized Katy was trapped in this spiraling danger and how Adam had been by his side no matter what - how Adam cancelled shows and postponed the beginning of his tour for him.
And he thinks about the strong hands touching him in his dreams, hands he's always denied ever fantasizing about. Kris tries to convince himself that it's just the panic finally sitting in, the realization that he might never see the light of day again, that makes him have these images running in his head. But it's tale telling how, from all his friends and family, the first person he knows he's going to regret never seeing again will be Adam Lambert.
The shrilling noise of the door opening startles him. His guardian, who's been bringing him food, enters. Kris squints his eyes against the luminosity coming in from the ajar door - albeit soft, it's too much for a man who's been living in absolute darkness.
"Your time has come," he hears. A shiver crawls up his spine. "Your sentence and your punishment are going to be delivered."
Kris tries to merge with the background - the uncomfortable bed and the stinky sheets that have been his only hiding place all this time. But it's to no avail; a large hand cups his nape when he turns to stuff his face in the pillow, and Kris feels the thrill of being pulled up by the hair. Even though he knows there's little he can do, Kris still kicks his legs out and attempts to scream but his throat is parched so no sound cone out of it.
For as much as he attempts to free himself, Kris is dragged through the corridors once again, and this time he has the feeling that it's going to be his last.
nothing you say is gonna stop me, no matter the weather that you bring
"For the fourth time today, no, I don't have any comments," Adam spits to a journalist camped outside his building. He knows it's the fourth time because he's getting back to the apartment for the second time today - he went to a meeting and came back home, so that makes two times the journalists have assaulted him with questions about Kris Allen and his sudden and mysterious disapparition. Adam isn't ready to face the truth - that in these past four months no one has seen or heard about Kris - and also the police has asked all of them to remain silent about the investigation.
But, mostly, Adam can't stand the idea that the more time it passes, the harder it'll be to find Kris - dead or alive.
Nobody says anything about it, though. Or at least they don't speak to Adam. His apartment has become the headquarters of their weekly meetings - once Kris' house was cleared for living, the Allens had moved in. Adam's family is divided between the mansion he now owns and the humble flat he tries to keep as his safety place. Adam himself hasn't been able to set foot in Kris' house, and it both pains him and makes him feel proud.
There are several policemen waiting in the corridor when he manages to climb up to his apartment. Adam's so used to them wandering around him, for security reasons, that he almost misses the concerned looks on their faces when he greets them. He shrugs it off as he unlocks his door and steps inside, only to find more agents and even more worried faces. He looks around for his mother, whom he's left all alone, and he breathes again when he sees her sitting on a couch in the living room. There are four policemen guarding the door.
"Mr Lambert," one of them speaks in a grave voice. "Mr Lambert, Lieutenant Dongle would like to talk to you."
"Of course," Adam agrees. "I hope this means you've already made some progress or something."
The agents remain silent. Adam feels like someone's gripping his heart so tight it might explode. After weeks running in circles, he hopes there are good news. When he provided the police with the address of that cult - his inkling that they could have got Kris strong enough to prevent him from sleeping - the police went straight into research the buildings.
They found nothing except a very angry Katy denying ever seeing Kris again after she joined the group. "I didn't even see him for the signing of the paper," she'd said. "So please be leaving."
Adam had found it hard to stop himself from strangling her right there and then.
He walks into the living room with his heart constricting in his chest. His mother's back is against the couch, he can't see her face, but the trembling in her limbs is a signal. Adam doesn't know if it's good or bad. "Mom, Lieutenant," he greets. They both turn to face him; there are tears running down his mother's cheeks. Adam feels his very core freezing.
"Adam," she whispers in a broken voice. "Adam, honey..."
"Adam, I'm afraid I come bearing some news you might not be ready to hear," the agent starts. Adam takes a seat beside his mother and senses her hand seeking his. He holds on tight.
"Have you found-"
"There was an anonymous call about a body at the Mojave," Lieutenant Dongle says. His hands are tangled on his lap. "When we arrived there, we found that it wasn't what we were expecting."
"Wasn't that person-dead?" Adam feels bold enough to ask.
"No, Adam. He wasn't dead, but he was close to. He's received so many hits and cuts, the doctors think he has internal bleeding. Adam-"
"It's Kris, isn't it?" he mutters. There's a single tear rolling down his face.
"Yes, sweetie," his mother tightens her grip on him. "It's Kris. But he's alive."
"I want to see him," Adam demands.
"Doctors think it may not be advisable-"
"If he's alive I want to see him. I don't care which shape he's in. I want to see him," he demands with a hint of hysteria in his voice. The agent nods curtly.
"Okay. I'll arrange it."
Leila looks at her son; Adam catches the bewildered gaze and simply shrugs it off. Even if Kris would have been-even if Kris wouldn't have been alive, Adam would have still wanted to see him, to prove to himself that the nightmare was over. He's tired of the sleepless night and the excess of makeup to cover his dark bags under his sad eyes. He's tired of pretending that the constant lack of Kris' presence isn't affecting him.
"You will be able to get your life back in track," the policeman says softly.
"I don't want to move," Adam replies. It's been a constant argument in his household - Lieutenant Dongle is almost another member of the family and he's been worried Adam would tumble down sick with all the pressure not performing would put on him. Adam knows he's been holding back for four months - cancelling his world tour, refusing to work on new music, always waiting for Kris to show up unscathed, always searching for him. Adam has long ago given up on fooling the police, and they've paid him back with their discretion. As a consequence, not a single agent involved in Kris Allen's case ignored the fact that Adam Lambert was in love with his best friend.
"Can we go now?" he asks with determination in his voice.
Lieutenant Dongle gets up. "Come with me. I'll make some calls. Mrs Lambert, would you like to come as well?"
Leila nods and follows them out. Adam can still feel her grasp on his wrist all the while to the hospital.
air you're breathing out fades you to gray
Kris doesn't think he's ever been somewhere as dark as this place. Not even the endless hours spent in the solitude of that cell of sorts can compare to this obscurity. There's a sense of insecurity and despair in the way that he finds there's actually no difference between having his eyes open or closed. So he opts to close them, because that way at least they aren't dry.
He might have lost the ability to count the time, because he can't determine how long he's trapped in this new dimension. Kris has no memories of what happened in between his guardian came to pick him up and the moment he woke up to nothing at all. It's scary but he feels a wave of solace tripping over him after realizing that he's alone. No one ever comes to see him in all the time he's been here, so maybe he's being left on his own. There are no strings chaining him to the bed - Kris wants to test his theory at some point so he tries to move his arm once.
He discovers with increasing terror that he can't feel his limbs. There's nothing.
When he opens his mouth to scream, he already knows there won't be any voice to yell with. But the reflex is human and he's still a human being. He's not dead, he repeats to himself. He can't be dead. He believes in Heaven, he refuses to accept that the afterlife is something so devoid of color and feeling.
He can't be dead. Kris thinks he would know - he's always been told that you know you're dead, you just know it, and he doesn't. He still has so many things to do, so many words to sing, so many fleeting touches to steal. He still has to tell Adam about his own epiphany, about his feelings for the older man, about how stupid he's been, all these years. He has to have time. He has to be alive, even if it's only hanging by a tiny thread.
He gives up hope after what feels like an eternity, and just learns to drift away slowly. There's no one coming to his rescue, so maybe he's already dead. No one at all surrounds him with affection. No one cares. Maybe so long has passed that everybody has forgotten about him.
Maybe it's better that way.
There are moments when he feels like vanishing in the lack of space and time, of becoming one with the darkness. Kris doesn't understand much of this new reality - in the movies they always put this limbo like a big tunnel with a light at the end and a voice calling from somewhere above. But there's nothing but a hole where his heart used to be, and the obscurity remains untouched.
Kris begins hearing voices when he's one hair away from throwing the towel in for real this time. At first he thinks he's finally gone crazy - as if one could keep his sanity in death - but soon he learns to appreciate the delicate musicality of that voice. He doesn't get much of what's being said, it's mostly humming and broken words and unfinished quotes Kris used to know when he was alive. There's one line from one melody that makes him want to cry, though.
He always thought one couldn't feel anything at all in death, that it was all green fields and blue skies, just like an Arkansas landscape. When he feels the first tear rolling down his cheeks, he remembers that nothing's what it seems in this new downside of death. It's the voice that keeps him feeling, that keeps him wanting to be alive again, but he can't recognize it. He thinks he might have known it before, but now it's just a small thread that repeats itself like a mantra while he falls deeper and deeper in the darkness.
Then, one day, he simply decides he's tired of being pulled up when all he wants to do is fall down. He's tired of staying between two worlds - if he'd been alive, he'd have snickered at his own comparison to Hannah Montana. He wishes he could have live long enough to meet his nieces and nephews - if Daniel ever makes up his mind about asking Lorette to marry him - so he could have told them about the heroes from the early century, and about his own hero. He wishes his family keeps a light in his memory when they finally find him, probably dead for months, somewhere in the desert. And it's in that moment of clarity that he's thinking of finally giving up completely, of letting go because he's ready to pass through the veil he can't see but he can feel at the bottom of the deep well, when he hears the same voice, broken and strangled, singing something he finally recognizes.
"Roads in front of me, taking me astray, are you leaving me? Or are you leading the way? Can you hear what I'm saying?"
Whatever he thought before scatters in millions of tiny pieces when he feels again. There's some sort of edge in those words, in his own lyrics, the ones he wrote when he believed he still loved Katy, before it all came undone, before his own songs morphed his reality; there's some sort of hidden message in the way the voice barely reaches the end of each line. Kris opens his eyes, and though everything is still dark he doesn't care. For he has finally recognized the voice, and he wishes he could smack himself in the head because, seriously, how can he have been so blind?
It's Adam. Adam is singing him back to life, as if by singing he could manage a new resurrection.
Kris doesn't know what to do. He's falling, deep and slowly, but he also wants to be pulled up again - now he wants to soothe Adam and let him know that everything will be alright again. That they will be together sometime, when they both are, finally, in the same place at the same time.
He closes his eyes again and wishes, with all his unbeating heart, with all his forgiven soul.
And he feels the thrill, up, up, up.
I can keep on losing sleep
Adam wasn't ready for what he was shown the first time he entered Kris' room at the hospital. He wasn't ready to see the cuts and the bruises, the bandage covering a huge part of Kris' body, the regular breathing and the incessant beeping of the machines that he was told kept Kris with them. Three weeks later, he's almost used to the sight, and the noise of those machines is his lullaby the nights no one can convince him to go home and rest.
Adam has set up a routine. Every nurse from every turn knows him, and they all let him be when he's around, which is almost every hour now. He's cancelled all his gigs and recording time indefinitely, so he can just sit beside this hospital bed and wait for a miracle.
He often sleeps in the same chair he spends his hours sitting in. He only leaves the room when Kim or Neil or Daniel come visiting, and even then he's asked to stay. Kim told him once he was part of the family, and they're making sure he understands that.
He talks a lot. He can't stop babbling to Kris, it seems. It doesn't matter if they're alone or there's someone else in the room. Adam speaks and speaks in the hopes that Kris can hear him. He explains his plans for the future, his already spoilt wishes for the past. And he sings, not much because it stings to sing when Kris can't, but he tries to.
In the beginning it was just a small and low thread of voice that he sang with. Lately he's been feeling bold enough to sing a little louder, but he only hums Kris' songs. It's hard, when he gets to Need To Know, because he has always felt that Kris wrote that song for someone other than Katy, and Adam has always wished it was for him. But he sings it, over and over, until his voice is raw and his throat aches. And then, he starts over again.
Time passes so slowly while he's waiting. It feels as if time has stopped them all in this moment, in this place - with Kris tied to a bed, in a private hospital, while all they can do is wait for a miracle that never happens. The fans come and go, there's no way to keep them from knowing what happened to Kris but the family has managed to maintain the official medical report in a one liner, simple Kris Allen shows no changes that seems to make the hordes camping outside happy. Adam doesn't think they'd be there as well if it's have been him - he's struggling with his self confidence now that he doesn't have anyone to remind him of how much he's worth.
He makes promises every day. He promises Kris to be by his side at all times, to never leave him alone, to be his solid rock and ground underr his feet, if Kris wakes up and ends this agony. Minutes tick by so slowly, when there's nothing to do but wait and sing.
When Kris shows no improvement in a month, the doctors begin talking about permanent damage. About endless sleeping. But all Adam can think about is Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and all other Disney princesses Adam loved to identify with when he was a child. He still believes in magic, but he knows Kris won't wake up with a kiss. Even the dreamer in him is aware of that.
Kim stays with him overnight the day the decision is taken. Kris always stated he didn't want to live thanks to any machine, so although it's tough on all of them, they're going to disconnect him. Kim hasn't said a word about it; Adam - and Leila and Neil and everyone else - fears she's losing it little by little. So they stay up all night, holding hands and praying to a Lord Adam hasn't believed in for so long, and with the breaking dawn Adam finds his voice to sing a small melody, the only one he's been able to hum lately.
"Roads in front of me, taking me astray, are you leaving me? Or are you leading the way? Can you hear what I'm saying?"
For a second nothing happens. Kim looks at him hopelessly before her eyes widen in surprise. Adam stares down with a start when he feels a feeble movement as if Kris wanted to hold his hand. The tightness is almost imperceptible but it's there, and Adam shares an incredulous look with Kim before letting relief wash over him.
Kris is still holding on when the nurses and doctors come in a little later, alerted by both their calls.
maybe it's time for miracles
The first thing that Kris thinks upon opening his eyes is that Heaven is too bright for his liking. At least he thinks he's in Heaven - Hell would feel much warmer than this aseptic environment.
Kris tries to focus his gaze without much success; there are voices around him, drowning into one another in their haste of being heard, and he wants to yell that he's listening so please be quieting.
He doesn't. The force of his own eyelids closing over his eyes is too much - something about gravity, but he can't be sure, he's a singer, not a scientist - so he just lets go. If this is Heaven, then it will be waiting for him when he wakes up again.
And this time he's not afraid of falling, because he knows a higher power will be ready to take him to a safe place.
It's the silence what wakes him up the next time. He only has to squint his eyes against the light, it's dim and warm but not in a hellish way. It's more like it's inviting him to wake up and stare at his surroundings. And so he does.
His surprise is great when he sees none other than Adam Lambert dozing off on an uncomfortable chair, hand in hand with Kris' own mother who's sleeping on the couch. Kris wants to smile at the sight - if Heaven has this in store for him, eternity is going to be amazingly sweet - but he feels the metallic bite of something he doesn't know on his lips. Startled, he looks around and recognizes the machines, the white walls, the lack of smell. And then he holds his breath for a second, realizing what that means.
He's alive. Maybe everything he's been through hasn't been a nightmare, or maybe he's definitely not dead, but he isn't going to complain either way.
He's alive.
He tugs at the tube in his arm. The noise in the room, machines beeping wildly, is enough to awaken the dead. Adam comes to life with a startled wince. Kris waits until the older man stops flailing; he sees the exact moment when Adam realizes that it's been him who's caused all the ruckus - Kris tries to smile around the tube he's got in his throat when Adam stands up with speed of flash and moves fluidly to the bed.
"God, Kris! You're finally awake!" he exclaims. Kris nods as much as all his constraints allow him to. "Wait and see your mother's face when she sees you... I guess she might've fallen asleep," Adam continues. "Lemme call a nurse. They have to check on you--"
Kris reaches out before Adam can turn away again. It's so hard for him to move, with all the machines keeping him still in place, but he manages to brush Adam's hand. He feels so tired just from that simple movement but he has to stop his friend before he calls the entire hospital crew to the room.
"Kris?" Adam asks softly. "What?"
Kris can't speak, he can't even keep his eyes open any longer. But Adam only needs that gaze to understand - it's always been like that between them, how didn't Kris see it sooner? - and the older singer sits on the very edge of the bed. Their fingers are dancing around each other, touching tentatively. Kris has no strength left to push up and link them, but he makes an effort. He threads through Adam's fingers without grasping them, but Adam takes the hint.
He intertwines both their hands in a locked grasp and doesn't let go.
Kris closes his eyes and drifts away again, this time completely aware that his own Heaven is still on Earth.
I guess that means it's l-o-v-e
Adam watches Kris while he sleeps, their fingers still linked. He can't help the smile that lingers in his face, the sheer happiness radiating from his every pore, at the knowledge that Kris is alive and he's going to recover.
There will be time to explain how in the end they caught the people who brought Kris nearly to death. There will be time to help Kris through his physical rehabilitation. There will be time to talk about the true meaning of the synched beating of both their hearts that he can feel in the racing pulse of their wrists.
For now, he just leans in until he's leveled with Kris' ears, his lithe body resting besides Kris', and debates what to say, his mind a whirlwind of feelings, of everything will be alright and you'll be fine, just you wait and see and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, but all that comes out of his mouth is a breathy "I love you."
He thinks he feels Kris tightening his grip in his sleep, as if replying I love you too, and that's more than enough for Adam to fall asleep peacefully for the first time in eons.
The End
there's a thin line 'tween the dark side and the light side
Kris has a lot of time in his hands. There's nothing to do but stare at the walls that he can now make out against the darkness. He's not afraid anymore - the terrified feeling of being trapped without escape has long been substituted by a resignation he never thought he'd have in him. Kris can just close his eyes and dream of a more peaceful place to be, an escapism he only allows himself to have when his fear threatens to take over him.
He's been called to the same room with the same people several times, and each of them has been to be judged about his suspicious relationship with Adam. Kris is tired and cranky and can't think straight; he hasn't showered in so long - he's allowed a little bathroom time every few days but it isn't enough, never enough - and his face is itchy because he hasn't shaved in even longer. And though they give him food, Kris can hardly call a piece of old bread and a glass of water a meal. He only has his fantasies to escape to, so he claims his hiding place whenever he can.
It happens, more and more often as the days roll by, that his dreaming brings him memories of past times when he was happy with Adam. In any other circumstances, Kris wouldn't have minded - he'd just relish in the memory of their first times together on Idol. But after all he's lived through, the mere thought of Adam Lambert is enough to make him question himself.
He never believed before that there could be more in what he shares with Adam. Everyone else - the fans, the media, Katy herself it seems - kept insisting on the fact that they'd grown inseparable, but to Kris it had just been a logical progression. Just like on many other seasons before theirs, as winner and runner up they'd gone through so much together, so many experiences no one else would ever understand. Kris never caught on all the gossip running around about his supposedly unfaithful love life, and he never gave much credit to those who claimed to have photographic proof of his escapades with Adam.
But apparently Katy had, and now he's in this predicament because of that. So, when his mind insists on pulling up images of Adam, Kris fights it hard, tooth and nail. He doesn't need the torture of thinking about his best friend when there's a threat hanging over his head.
Only he can't stop himself, and when for the third time in a row - he's given up on trying to count the time - he wakes up with the lingering feeling of Adam's fingers touching his skin, Kris knows he can't deny it any longer.
So maybe, somewhere along the trip to celebrity and top charts, he fell for his best friend. Who happened to be a man. While Kris himself was still married. With a woman.
He'd stop thinking about it but there's nothing else to do, and even the headache it's giving him isn't as bad as the migraine staring at the walls usually gives him. So he thinks.
He thinks about the endless nights on tour when he was too wired up to sleep and Adam was there to soothe his worries away. He thinks about the moment he realized Katy was trapped in this spiraling danger and how Adam had been by his side no matter what - how Adam cancelled shows and postponed the beginning of his tour for him.
And he thinks about the strong hands touching him in his dreams, hands he's always denied ever fantasizing about. Kris tries to convince himself that it's just the panic finally sitting in, the realization that he might never see the light of day again, that makes him have these images running in his head. But it's tale telling how, from all his friends and family, the first person he knows he's going to regret never seeing again will be Adam Lambert.
The shrilling noise of the door opening startles him. His guardian, who's been bringing him food, enters. Kris squints his eyes against the luminosity coming in from the ajar door - albeit soft, it's too much for a man who's been living in absolute darkness.
"Your time has come," he hears. A shiver crawls up his spine. "Your sentence and your punishment are going to be delivered."
Kris tries to merge with the background - the uncomfortable bed and the stinky sheets that have been his only hiding place all this time. But it's to no avail; a large hand cups his nape when he turns to stuff his face in the pillow, and Kris feels the thrill of being pulled up by the hair. Even though he knows there's little he can do, Kris still kicks his legs out and attempts to scream but his throat is parched so no sound cone out of it.
For as much as he attempts to free himself, Kris is dragged through the corridors once again, and this time he has the feeling that it's going to be his last.
nothing you say is gonna stop me, no matter the weather that you bring
"For the fourth time today, no, I don't have any comments," Adam spits to a journalist camped outside his building. He knows it's the fourth time because he's getting back to the apartment for the second time today - he went to a meeting and came back home, so that makes two times the journalists have assaulted him with questions about Kris Allen and his sudden and mysterious disapparition. Adam isn't ready to face the truth - that in these past four months no one has seen or heard about Kris - and also the police has asked all of them to remain silent about the investigation.
But, mostly, Adam can't stand the idea that the more time it passes, the harder it'll be to find Kris - dead or alive.
Nobody says anything about it, though. Or at least they don't speak to Adam. His apartment has become the headquarters of their weekly meetings - once Kris' house was cleared for living, the Allens had moved in. Adam's family is divided between the mansion he now owns and the humble flat he tries to keep as his safety place. Adam himself hasn't been able to set foot in Kris' house, and it both pains him and makes him feel proud.
There are several policemen waiting in the corridor when he manages to climb up to his apartment. Adam's so used to them wandering around him, for security reasons, that he almost misses the concerned looks on their faces when he greets them. He shrugs it off as he unlocks his door and steps inside, only to find more agents and even more worried faces. He looks around for his mother, whom he's left all alone, and he breathes again when he sees her sitting on a couch in the living room. There are four policemen guarding the door.
"Mr Lambert," one of them speaks in a grave voice. "Mr Lambert, Lieutenant Dongle would like to talk to you."
"Of course," Adam agrees. "I hope this means you've already made some progress or something."
The agents remain silent. Adam feels like someone's gripping his heart so tight it might explode. After weeks running in circles, he hopes there are good news. When he provided the police with the address of that cult - his inkling that they could have got Kris strong enough to prevent him from sleeping - the police went straight into research the buildings.
They found nothing except a very angry Katy denying ever seeing Kris again after she joined the group. "I didn't even see him for the signing of the paper," she'd said. "So please be leaving."
Adam had found it hard to stop himself from strangling her right there and then.
He walks into the living room with his heart constricting in his chest. His mother's back is against the couch, he can't see her face, but the trembling in her limbs is a signal. Adam doesn't know if it's good or bad. "Mom, Lieutenant," he greets. They both turn to face him; there are tears running down his mother's cheeks. Adam feels his very core freezing.
"Adam," she whispers in a broken voice. "Adam, honey..."
"Adam, I'm afraid I come bearing some news you might not be ready to hear," the agent starts. Adam takes a seat beside his mother and senses her hand seeking his. He holds on tight.
"Have you found-"
"There was an anonymous call about a body at the Mojave," Lieutenant Dongle says. His hands are tangled on his lap. "When we arrived there, we found that it wasn't what we were expecting."
"Wasn't that person-dead?" Adam feels bold enough to ask.
"No, Adam. He wasn't dead, but he was close to. He's received so many hits and cuts, the doctors think he has internal bleeding. Adam-"
"It's Kris, isn't it?" he mutters. There's a single tear rolling down his face.
"Yes, sweetie," his mother tightens her grip on him. "It's Kris. But he's alive."
"I want to see him," Adam demands.
"Doctors think it may not be advisable-"
"If he's alive I want to see him. I don't care which shape he's in. I want to see him," he demands with a hint of hysteria in his voice. The agent nods curtly.
"Okay. I'll arrange it."
Leila looks at her son; Adam catches the bewildered gaze and simply shrugs it off. Even if Kris would have been-even if Kris wouldn't have been alive, Adam would have still wanted to see him, to prove to himself that the nightmare was over. He's tired of the sleepless night and the excess of makeup to cover his dark bags under his sad eyes. He's tired of pretending that the constant lack of Kris' presence isn't affecting him.
"You will be able to get your life back in track," the policeman says softly.
"I don't want to move," Adam replies. It's been a constant argument in his household - Lieutenant Dongle is almost another member of the family and he's been worried Adam would tumble down sick with all the pressure not performing would put on him. Adam knows he's been holding back for four months - cancelling his world tour, refusing to work on new music, always waiting for Kris to show up unscathed, always searching for him. Adam has long ago given up on fooling the police, and they've paid him back with their discretion. As a consequence, not a single agent involved in Kris Allen's case ignored the fact that Adam Lambert was in love with his best friend.
"Can we go now?" he asks with determination in his voice.
Lieutenant Dongle gets up. "Come with me. I'll make some calls. Mrs Lambert, would you like to come as well?"
Leila nods and follows them out. Adam can still feel her grasp on his wrist all the while to the hospital.
air you're breathing out fades you to gray
Kris doesn't think he's ever been somewhere as dark as this place. Not even the endless hours spent in the solitude of that cell of sorts can compare to this obscurity. There's a sense of insecurity and despair in the way that he finds there's actually no difference between having his eyes open or closed. So he opts to close them, because that way at least they aren't dry.
He might have lost the ability to count the time, because he can't determine how long he's trapped in this new dimension. Kris has no memories of what happened in between his guardian came to pick him up and the moment he woke up to nothing at all. It's scary but he feels a wave of solace tripping over him after realizing that he's alone. No one ever comes to see him in all the time he's been here, so maybe he's being left on his own. There are no strings chaining him to the bed - Kris wants to test his theory at some point so he tries to move his arm once.
He discovers with increasing terror that he can't feel his limbs. There's nothing.
When he opens his mouth to scream, he already knows there won't be any voice to yell with. But the reflex is human and he's still a human being. He's not dead, he repeats to himself. He can't be dead. He believes in Heaven, he refuses to accept that the afterlife is something so devoid of color and feeling.
He can't be dead. Kris thinks he would know - he's always been told that you know you're dead, you just know it, and he doesn't. He still has so many things to do, so many words to sing, so many fleeting touches to steal. He still has to tell Adam about his own epiphany, about his feelings for the older man, about how stupid he's been, all these years. He has to have time. He has to be alive, even if it's only hanging by a tiny thread.
He gives up hope after what feels like an eternity, and just learns to drift away slowly. There's no one coming to his rescue, so maybe he's already dead. No one at all surrounds him with affection. No one cares. Maybe so long has passed that everybody has forgotten about him.
Maybe it's better that way.
There are moments when he feels like vanishing in the lack of space and time, of becoming one with the darkness. Kris doesn't understand much of this new reality - in the movies they always put this limbo like a big tunnel with a light at the end and a voice calling from somewhere above. But there's nothing but a hole where his heart used to be, and the obscurity remains untouched.
Kris begins hearing voices when he's one hair away from throwing the towel in for real this time. At first he thinks he's finally gone crazy - as if one could keep his sanity in death - but soon he learns to appreciate the delicate musicality of that voice. He doesn't get much of what's being said, it's mostly humming and broken words and unfinished quotes Kris used to know when he was alive. There's one line from one melody that makes him want to cry, though.
He always thought one couldn't feel anything at all in death, that it was all green fields and blue skies, just like an Arkansas landscape. When he feels the first tear rolling down his cheeks, he remembers that nothing's what it seems in this new downside of death. It's the voice that keeps him feeling, that keeps him wanting to be alive again, but he can't recognize it. He thinks he might have known it before, but now it's just a small thread that repeats itself like a mantra while he falls deeper and deeper in the darkness.
Then, one day, he simply decides he's tired of being pulled up when all he wants to do is fall down. He's tired of staying between two worlds - if he'd been alive, he'd have snickered at his own comparison to Hannah Montana. He wishes he could have live long enough to meet his nieces and nephews - if Daniel ever makes up his mind about asking Lorette to marry him - so he could have told them about the heroes from the early century, and about his own hero. He wishes his family keeps a light in his memory when they finally find him, probably dead for months, somewhere in the desert. And it's in that moment of clarity that he's thinking of finally giving up completely, of letting go because he's ready to pass through the veil he can't see but he can feel at the bottom of the deep well, when he hears the same voice, broken and strangled, singing something he finally recognizes.
"Roads in front of me, taking me astray, are you leaving me? Or are you leading the way? Can you hear what I'm saying?"
Whatever he thought before scatters in millions of tiny pieces when he feels again. There's some sort of edge in those words, in his own lyrics, the ones he wrote when he believed he still loved Katy, before it all came undone, before his own songs morphed his reality; there's some sort of hidden message in the way the voice barely reaches the end of each line. Kris opens his eyes, and though everything is still dark he doesn't care. For he has finally recognized the voice, and he wishes he could smack himself in the head because, seriously, how can he have been so blind?
It's Adam. Adam is singing him back to life, as if by singing he could manage a new resurrection.
Kris doesn't know what to do. He's falling, deep and slowly, but he also wants to be pulled up again - now he wants to soothe Adam and let him know that everything will be alright again. That they will be together sometime, when they both are, finally, in the same place at the same time.
He closes his eyes again and wishes, with all his unbeating heart, with all his forgiven soul.
And he feels the thrill, up, up, up.
I can keep on losing sleep
Adam wasn't ready for what he was shown the first time he entered Kris' room at the hospital. He wasn't ready to see the cuts and the bruises, the bandage covering a huge part of Kris' body, the regular breathing and the incessant beeping of the machines that he was told kept Kris with them. Three weeks later, he's almost used to the sight, and the noise of those machines is his lullaby the nights no one can convince him to go home and rest.
Adam has set up a routine. Every nurse from every turn knows him, and they all let him be when he's around, which is almost every hour now. He's cancelled all his gigs and recording time indefinitely, so he can just sit beside this hospital bed and wait for a miracle.
He often sleeps in the same chair he spends his hours sitting in. He only leaves the room when Kim or Neil or Daniel come visiting, and even then he's asked to stay. Kim told him once he was part of the family, and they're making sure he understands that.
He talks a lot. He can't stop babbling to Kris, it seems. It doesn't matter if they're alone or there's someone else in the room. Adam speaks and speaks in the hopes that Kris can hear him. He explains his plans for the future, his already spoilt wishes for the past. And he sings, not much because it stings to sing when Kris can't, but he tries to.
In the beginning it was just a small and low thread of voice that he sang with. Lately he's been feeling bold enough to sing a little louder, but he only hums Kris' songs. It's hard, when he gets to Need To Know, because he has always felt that Kris wrote that song for someone other than Katy, and Adam has always wished it was for him. But he sings it, over and over, until his voice is raw and his throat aches. And then, he starts over again.
Time passes so slowly while he's waiting. It feels as if time has stopped them all in this moment, in this place - with Kris tied to a bed, in a private hospital, while all they can do is wait for a miracle that never happens. The fans come and go, there's no way to keep them from knowing what happened to Kris but the family has managed to maintain the official medical report in a one liner, simple Kris Allen shows no changes that seems to make the hordes camping outside happy. Adam doesn't think they'd be there as well if it's have been him - he's struggling with his self confidence now that he doesn't have anyone to remind him of how much he's worth.
He makes promises every day. He promises Kris to be by his side at all times, to never leave him alone, to be his solid rock and ground underr his feet, if Kris wakes up and ends this agony. Minutes tick by so slowly, when there's nothing to do but wait and sing.
When Kris shows no improvement in a month, the doctors begin talking about permanent damage. About endless sleeping. But all Adam can think about is Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and all other Disney princesses Adam loved to identify with when he was a child. He still believes in magic, but he knows Kris won't wake up with a kiss. Even the dreamer in him is aware of that.
Kim stays with him overnight the day the decision is taken. Kris always stated he didn't want to live thanks to any machine, so although it's tough on all of them, they're going to disconnect him. Kim hasn't said a word about it; Adam - and Leila and Neil and everyone else - fears she's losing it little by little. So they stay up all night, holding hands and praying to a Lord Adam hasn't believed in for so long, and with the breaking dawn Adam finds his voice to sing a small melody, the only one he's been able to hum lately.
"Roads in front of me, taking me astray, are you leaving me? Or are you leading the way? Can you hear what I'm saying?"
For a second nothing happens. Kim looks at him hopelessly before her eyes widen in surprise. Adam stares down with a start when he feels a feeble movement as if Kris wanted to hold his hand. The tightness is almost imperceptible but it's there, and Adam shares an incredulous look with Kim before letting relief wash over him.
Kris is still holding on when the nurses and doctors come in a little later, alerted by both their calls.
maybe it's time for miracles
The first thing that Kris thinks upon opening his eyes is that Heaven is too bright for his liking. At least he thinks he's in Heaven - Hell would feel much warmer than this aseptic environment.
Kris tries to focus his gaze without much success; there are voices around him, drowning into one another in their haste of being heard, and he wants to yell that he's listening so please be quieting.
He doesn't. The force of his own eyelids closing over his eyes is too much - something about gravity, but he can't be sure, he's a singer, not a scientist - so he just lets go. If this is Heaven, then it will be waiting for him when he wakes up again.
And this time he's not afraid of falling, because he knows a higher power will be ready to take him to a safe place.
It's the silence what wakes him up the next time. He only has to squint his eyes against the light, it's dim and warm but not in a hellish way. It's more like it's inviting him to wake up and stare at his surroundings. And so he does.
His surprise is great when he sees none other than Adam Lambert dozing off on an uncomfortable chair, hand in hand with Kris' own mother who's sleeping on the couch. Kris wants to smile at the sight - if Heaven has this in store for him, eternity is going to be amazingly sweet - but he feels the metallic bite of something he doesn't know on his lips. Startled, he looks around and recognizes the machines, the white walls, the lack of smell. And then he holds his breath for a second, realizing what that means.
He's alive. Maybe everything he's been through hasn't been a nightmare, or maybe he's definitely not dead, but he isn't going to complain either way.
He's alive.
He tugs at the tube in his arm. The noise in the room, machines beeping wildly, is enough to awaken the dead. Adam comes to life with a startled wince. Kris waits until the older man stops flailing; he sees the exact moment when Adam realizes that it's been him who's caused all the ruckus - Kris tries to smile around the tube he's got in his throat when Adam stands up with speed of flash and moves fluidly to the bed.
"God, Kris! You're finally awake!" he exclaims. Kris nods as much as all his constraints allow him to. "Wait and see your mother's face when she sees you... I guess she might've fallen asleep," Adam continues. "Lemme call a nurse. They have to check on you--"
Kris reaches out before Adam can turn away again. It's so hard for him to move, with all the machines keeping him still in place, but he manages to brush Adam's hand. He feels so tired just from that simple movement but he has to stop his friend before he calls the entire hospital crew to the room.
"Kris?" Adam asks softly. "What?"
Kris can't speak, he can't even keep his eyes open any longer. But Adam only needs that gaze to understand - it's always been like that between them, how didn't Kris see it sooner? - and the older singer sits on the very edge of the bed. Their fingers are dancing around each other, touching tentatively. Kris has no strength left to push up and link them, but he makes an effort. He threads through Adam's fingers without grasping them, but Adam takes the hint.
He intertwines both their hands in a locked grasp and doesn't let go.
Kris closes his eyes and drifts away again, this time completely aware that his own Heaven is still on Earth.
I guess that means it's l-o-v-e
Adam watches Kris while he sleeps, their fingers still linked. He can't help the smile that lingers in his face, the sheer happiness radiating from his every pore, at the knowledge that Kris is alive and he's going to recover.
There will be time to explain how in the end they caught the people who brought Kris nearly to death. There will be time to help Kris through his physical rehabilitation. There will be time to talk about the true meaning of the synched beating of both their hearts that he can feel in the racing pulse of their wrists.
For now, he just leans in until he's leveled with Kris' ears, his lithe body resting besides Kris', and debates what to say, his mind a whirlwind of feelings, of everything will be alright and you'll be fine, just you wait and see and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, but all that comes out of his mouth is a breathy "I love you."
He thinks he feels Kris tightening his grip in his sleep, as if replying I love you too, and that's more than enough for Adam to fall asleep peacefully for the first time in eons.
The End