What Happened That Year (Part 1)

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Adam had failed to catch a football during gym class. That was all he had done to cause Johnson to come at him that day when the sub punched him. For a moment, it seemed Johnson might leave Adam alone, but it only made matters worse. Adam quickly became good at borrowing his mother's makeup to cover up black eyes and bruises.

"Are you good?" Wensleydale asked, sincerely concerned. "You've seemed off lately." The two sat on the bleachers at one of Brian's soccer games. He was a striker, and Wensleydale was being a supportive boyfriend and cheered from the sidelines at every single game.

"I'm-" Adam started, but he was cut off when Wensleydale stood up and started cheering loudly. Brian had bolted down the field toward flag where someone had passed him the ball, he faked out three different defenders, dribbling in toward the goal, and with one powerful kick, got it in the goal. Wensleydale cheered and waved as Brian looked straight at him, grinning and blushing.

Adam had to admit those two were cute together, but since Pepper had moved away after middle school, he always felt like a third wheel.

"Sorry, you were saying?" Wensley asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing. I'm fine," Adam lied. "I'm gonna bike home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," Wensleydale said, concerned for a moment before his attention was drawn back to the game. See? No one cared for more than a moment before they inevitably forgot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam was curled up in a ball, tears streaming down his face, silently crying for help, but no one was coming. No one ever came. No one would ever come. His arms and thighs were covered with those small cuts, like he was crosshatching his own skin. Tonight, he had added a few more, but they weren't deep enough. They weren't enough.

But he couldn't move. He lay there, paralyzed as his thoughts raced at ninety miles an hour, more, unable to make sense of anything. He was overwhelmed by the negative thoughts, drowning in his own mind.

No one cares. Why would they? No one ever cares. You're a fuckup. Everything you touch breaks. You're the reason Pepper left. She hated you. So do Wensleydale and Brian. They just feel bad for you. You deserve Johnson's beatings. If your parents knew you were so broken they would hate you. You don't deserve happiness. You don't deserve to live. You're a coward. A screwup. You were always the smart one but you're an idiot now. Your grades are too low. You'll never be good enough. Everyone is so disappointed in you. They'll be even more disappointed if you tell them about all this. If they knew you were broken. Broken glass, that's all you are. Fragile. Weak. Coward.

He couldn't shut it off. He couldn't shut it up. More and more negative thoughts flooded his head, dragging him down into darkness. He couldn't move. His heart beat faster and faster, his body shaking. After far too long, his breathing slowed and he managed to get a little more control, but he still couldn't move. He tried but he just ... couldn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I need your help," the familiar figure said. He looked like something out of an old memory, vague, and not quite right. "I don't know if you remember, but my name is Crowley."

"Oh," Adam said, looking the man up and down. "The demon. I remember." Adam wasn't expecting to see him, or anyone really. He had simply gone out for a walk to clear his head, well, as much as he could. He really didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment.

"Actually, not a demon anymore. I, uh, I rose, I guess. I'm an angel now."

"Congratulations," Adam said, his voice a dead monotone.

"That's actually why I'm here. I was wondering, well, I heard how you helped Aziraphale, and I was wondering if you could make me fall."

Adam paused, trying as hard as he could for a moment. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I can't do it. I'm just ... not in the right headspace ..."

A look of concern flashed across Crowley's face. "Everything alright?"

"I'm fine-" Adam started out of habit. He shrugged, realizing he would probably never see Crowley again and it didn't matter what he said. "Not really. Just hit a rough patch. One that doesn't seem like it's going to end."

"C'mon," Crowley said. "We're getting ice cream."

It was dark out, but the ice cream shop was still open, and Crowley bought the two ice cream cones, and they sat down by the river to eat them.

"Sometimes the best thing to do is just talk about it," Crowley said, staring out at the water. "And I know I'm probably the last person you'd consider talking to, but I'm a good listener, and I keep secrets like you'd never believe."

Adam was silent for quite a while. Crowley thought for a minute that Adam would never open up to him, but he eventually did.

"Everything says I should be fine," Adam said quietly. "But I'm not, and I don't know why. I can't ask for help because, well, nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong ... but at the same time everything is. I can't describe it. Like there's something wrong in my brain. I don't know what it is because they say depression is like being numb all the time ..." at this point Adam was trying hard to choke back tears. It was hard talking about this stuff. "but I'm only numb some of the time. The rest I spend trying not to cry-" a tear raced down Adam's cheek. "Shit. Shit." He continued to swear quietly as he brushed the tears away and took a deep breath, trying not to cry.

He continued. "I guess it started two years ago. But I've been fighting for so long ... I'm just tired. Tired of fighting. I don't want to keep going." He let out a choked laugh. "The doctor said depression and anxiety. Both, isn't that funny? Like someone is just out to give me the shittiest life possible. My parents don't know a thing, and I don't want them to. Neither do Wensley and Brian. I just ... feel so alone."

Crowley didn't know what to say. He was simply overwhelmed with sympathy for the boy. So he wrapped him in his arms and hugged him. "Text me if you need anything," he told him, adding his phone number to Adam's contacts later.


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