Moving Forward

It was his turn to sleep, but sleep eluded Adam. This wasn’t the first time it had done so this week. His mind was racing, as it had since the horrors of Paramus. It would replay what they had seen, the stench of the place, and Elliott’s desperate, hysterical cries. It would haunt him with thoughts and worries he normally tried to ignore or suppress.

His own family, so far away, could very well meet the same end as Elliott’s. Perhaps they already had. He’d probably never know, and he’d probably never see them again. Grief for people who may very well have still been alive gripped him tightly, choking him until he felt all the air had gone and making his chest ache. He felt sick.

As carefully as he could, he moved away from Kurt, who seemed to be sleeping. He sat up and hugged his knees, resting his head upon them. Tears burned in his tired eyes.

On some level, he had known since all this end of the world mess had started that he would probably never see or hear from his family again. It just wasn’t something it did him any good to dwell on, and so, admittedly, he actively tried not to think of it, of them, at all. It was terrible; it was wrong, but it was all he could do if he wanted to function.

But now… now he was forced to face that fact, that brutal reality. Memories of times long past flashed into his mind, times he’d certainly never see again, as well as the imaginings of things that now would never happen. He’d never get to introduce them to Kurt. He’d never get to see his younger sister graduate. His older brother and his sister-in-law just had a baby before the world ended; he’d never actually get to meet his nephew.

He’d never see his parents again. His mum, if she was still alive, was almost certainly beside herself worrying about him, so far away from them in the midst of all of this. She’d been a worrier even when the world wasn’t ending. He had no way to let her know he was alright.

Not that he was exactly alright presently…

He was trying to break down quietly, but he could still sense eyes on him. He lifted his head to find Elliott and Sebastian watching him. Sebastian looked away as soon as he’d been caught, but Elliott kept staring, his eyes with a knowing look to them.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” He said quietly.

Adam shook his head. Realizing Elliott might not have seen the gesture in the dark, he said, “No.”

“You haven’t been,” Elliott commented, “I-I couldn’t help but notice… You wanna talk about it?”

“S’pose I should, shouldn’t I?” Adam responded, but in truth, he very much doubted he could talk about it at the moment, not coherently at least.

Elliott seemed to take the response as some sort of dismissal. “Well, you don’t have to, but if you want to, we’re here.”

Adam nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’ve done the same for me already, and you’ll probably have to do it again in the future,” Elliott said, “So, don’t mention it.” And he was right, of course, Elliott hadn’t been sleeping much either in the wake of their visit to his hometown, for obvious reasons.

Adam nodded and rubbed a hand across his face. He was so tired, but his mind wouldn’t let him sleep. From behind him, he thought he heard Kurt stirring.

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked, his voice heavy from sleep. The anxious confusion in his tone made Adam wonder if he had perhaps woken from a nightmare. Kurt had been having a lot of those lately.

“Right here, love,” Adam told him. He tried to keep his tone steady, but there was no way to effectively hide that he’d been crying or that even now he was barely holding together. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Kurt argued gently, and he got up and walked over to Adam.

“No, it’s not,” Adam echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kurt sat beside him and pulled him into his arms. Adam returned the embrace, taking great comfort in it. He released a shuddery sigh. “Couldn’t sleep,” he stated the obvious.

“You haven’t been sleeping much since…”

“I didn’t know it was that obvious… Elliott said the same…”

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked.

Tears stung in Adam’s eyes again. He tried to blink them away, but more took their place. There was a lump in his throat that made it hard to talk.

“Adam?” Kurt tried again.

He couldn’t find the words; it was like his frantic mind had jumbled them all into a miserable mess. Finally, he stammered, “They might be dead—my family—back home—I don’t know if—” Every word before “dead” was a labor, and every word after spilled out of him with such desperation. A sob escaped him. “I’m prob-probably never gonna see-see any of them—ever again.” Saying it out loud made it even more real and made it hurt more than it ever had. He cried like he never had before; he couldn’t stop.

For a while, Kurt said nothing, just held him tightly and ran a hand over the back of his head and his back. Adam thought he might have heard Sebastian and Elliott making whispered conversation, but it sounded so distant to him and so unreal that he may very well have just imagined it. Everything had that sort of unreal feeling to it, and Kurt’s arms holding him in place felt like the only thing grounding him.

Kurt was all he had now… Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. He also had Sebastian and Elliott, who had already proven to be great friends. Their group was the closest thing to family he or Elliott had left. Perhaps that was why Elliott had wanted to travel with them.

With some hesitance, Kurt finally spoke again, “I’m so sorry, Adam. I can’t even imagine… I mean, if I thought I’d never see my dad again I don’t know what I’d do.”

“They would’ve loved you…my family… I just know it.” It didn’t follow what Kurt had said, and Adam wasn’t sure why he’d felt compelled to say it.

“I’d love to meet them someday.” And the fact that Kurt worded that like it might still be possible wasn’t lost on Adam.

He pulled away slightly so that he could see Kurt’s face. His eyes met those blue eyes that shone, even in the dark, and in them he saw hope. Through his grief, he could feel light and warmth, just a spark, just enough, and he was certain in that moment he had never loved anyone more in his entire life. “I… I’d love that, too.”