( Jack | 003 ) - Blog Posts

jackforeman​:

Though Adam was right, that he hadn’t killed anyone, either, that didn’t absolve him of the guilt from hurting Steve. In truth, he probably could have killed him, if what he’d heard was true and that he’d kicked the living daylights out of someone who was supposed to be one of his best friends. For what, though? Jack had no idea. Maybe to set off explosive fireworks, but those hadn’t even been his, and he and Adam would never intentionally do something to hurt people like that. They just wouldn’t.

Jack watched Adam’s face grow colorless, as though he’d seen the ghost of himself in Jack’s own eyes as he recounted what had happened. Adam had died, too? His mind raced like the red string on Jo’s board. Adam had known for weeks that he’d been dead, even from the first day that they’d come back from the commune. The forest community that they’d apparently been sent to, but in reality, they’d both come out of the forest rising from the dead. It made absolutely no sense. 

“Hold on,” he said slowly, pulling away from Adam to place his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “You’re telling me that we came out of the commune,” he lifted a hand, flexing his fingers in air quotes, “right, but we’d both been actually dead the entire time. So, the commune … it couldn’t have existed, did it?” It sounded insane, but it was the only thing that made sense, at least right now. “Because … you were there, and I was there, but we actually weren’t. Did it not actually exist at all, or were there just some people there, and they grouped us in with them?” The questions he had were all rhetorical, all ones that neither Jack nor Adam could answer right now, but he at least knew someone who could attempt to tackle the unanswerable. “Jo has this board, this … it’s a murder board, but she doesn’t call it that. But, whatever. Not the point. There has to be something on there that would help us figure this shit out.”

Jack pulled his hands from Adam’s shoulders, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I had no idea … I didn’t know that you, you know, died, too. I’m just glad that we have each other.” He paused, turning toward him. “Do you remember anything, at all? Like, about the afterlife? Because I can’t remember shit. It’s like it never happened.”

Neither of them had chosen to commit the actions that they had, Adam understood that. But he was struggling with forgiving himself, even now. He might not have made the decisions, but it had been him doing it regardless. While he could understand logically that he wasn’t responsible, it would take him some time to process the fact that he wasn’t guilty. That he hadn’t killed anyone - the Mindflayer had. The...Doppelganger had, if Max was right. But it was hard to believe that when those things sounded so insane. He had never heard of anything like that before, and Adam tried to be a pretty level-headed guy. Believing in outlandish stuff just wasn’t something that worked for him, usually. But he knew now that he needed to try to believe in it if he wanted a shot at forgiving himself for the things his body had done. 

As Jack put his hands on Adam’s shoulders, Adam looked at him in confusion. He could tell Jack was putting something together, realizing some truth about their situation. “...I don’t know,” He admitted, shaking his head. “I think it had to, right? Why else would Peter be around? Why would they want us to be going to therapy?” How could all of that just... be a coverup? And what were they covering up, if that was what it was? It made Adam’s head hurt to think about, and he just wasn’t sure he could believe all of that. “Not everyone could have died! How would...how could that many people just... come back?” None of this made any sense. Why them? What had Adam ever done to deserve being resurrected? “We just... maybe we came back, and it was around the time they found everyone else, and so they lumped us together?” He shook his head again, not being able to rationalize all of this. “We should talk to Peter. He would know. Right?” 

At the mention of Jo’s murder board, Adam bit his lip. He wasn’t exactly excited by the idea of going over to Jack’s house and seeing his sisters, if he was being honest. Jo hadn’t kicked his ass last time, but what if she’d changed her mind since? Or what if Julie did? 

Jack sat down, and Adam hesitantly followed. Perching on the bed beside him, he kept some distance between the two even now. “Jack, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Adam told him seriously. He was glad to have Jack too, in a way, but that seemed horrifying to admit considering Adam had been the one to kill him. He let out a shaky breath at the mention of an afterlife, hand subconsciously coming up to touch the crucifix that still hung around his neck even after all this time. “...no.” Adam admitted quietly. “There wasn’t anything. Just nothing, and then us waking up in the woods.” 

jackforeman​:

As the door closed behind them, Jack felt himself suck in an anxious breath, as though all of the air in Adam’s room filled his lungs. It hung still between them for a moment until Adam spoke, letting out the first apology of what was bound to be many. Jack felt sorry, too, even though he was the one who had died at the hands of his best friend, the same ones that were shoved in the pockets of the familiar sweatshirt. In a flash, they could have been coming toward him again, locking his wrists behind his back, leading him toward whatever that thing was in the warehouse. 

But that wasn’t the Adam he knew. It wasn’t the same person that stood before him in his childhood bedroom, where they used to play cards and talk about the girls Jack now knew Adam was never into. It was another secret, piled onto the heap that people had been keeping from him. Like the others, it wasn’t one he could blame Adam for. If he had shown up at his own doorstep, he would’ve lied to himself, too, like Steve and Julie had when they’d omitted the part where he had come back from the dead. He didn’t blame Jo, either, for claiming that the board in the basement wasn’t hers until they needed it. The culmination of being kept in such darkness after losing years of his life, though? Jack was coming close to breaking.

If his memory was correct, it was Adam who had been the one who took those years away from him. Maybe it wasn’t Adam at the wheel of his own free will, but deep down, there was a piece of his friend in there, in the dream. He wanted to be mad, to blame everything on Adam: it would’ve been easier that way. After the carnival, though, and recognizing the feeling of having no autonomy over his own body, Jack simply couldn’t. It looked like Adam was ready for him to kick the shit out of him, like he’d done to Steve, but this was his Adam, his best friend, and there was nothing inside of him that would let him willingly hurt him.

“I have a feeling I’m not safe to be around, either,” he said finally, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. “That’s what you were going to tell me, before the carnival, wasn’t it? That you–that I died.” The word still stung on his tongue; he couldn’t come to say it without wincing. “I know, it couldn’t have been you, if that wasn’t us at the carnival, either.” Jack paused, taking a small step forward, slow, so as to not scare Adam. “I don’t hate you. I could never.” Another step, before his arm was wrapped around Adam’s, the other coming around his shoulder, bringing Adam into his embrace. “I promise.” 

Adam was trying to keep his distance from Jack, not for his own safety, but in case it was true. In case he had killed his best friend. After what Jo had said, and what Adam knew from talking to Cole, it made sense. As much as Adam didn’t want to believe that he could be capable of that - even in the worst circumstances - he knew he wasn’t in control of his own body when he blacked out. Whatever he had done, he hadn’t decided to do it.

That didn’t fully absolve him of guilt, though. Adam knew he hadn’t chosen to hurt Jack, but that didn’t mean his body hadn’t been used as a weapon to kill. And no matter how much Adam wished he could, he couldn’t fix the damage he’d done three years ago. The worst part was, Adam didn’t even remember it. He didn’t remember doing whatever he had done to Jack - but Jack did. Jack had to live with that visual now, and all of the pain and terror that came with it. 

No part of Adam would have blamed Jack for showing up to kick his ass. He wouldn’t fight back at all, afraid of hurting Jack again in the process. Adam frowned at Jack’s confession, wanting to argue but he couldn’t. If what he’d heard about the carnival was true, maybe none of them ever would be safe to be around. Not while they were having the blackouts. “You didn’t kill anyone, though,” Adam said, pausing on the word kill. It still felt wrong to say, like the action itself. 

“...yes,” Adam admitted quietly, thinking back to that day in the Foreman’s basement. It felt like a lifetime ago - back when his biggest issue was whether or not he had really died. Adam knew the truth now; he knew that he had. He knew that Jack had. “Cole told me I’d died the first time I saw him after we got back. I didn’t... I didn’t believe him, at first. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want you to have to know that either, unless you wanted to.” Adam hadn’t wanted to force that truth on Jack. It had been impossible for Adam to process himself at first. “Not because of what I did to you. I wasn’t trying to hide that, because I don’t remember it. I just didn’t want to fuck up your life with news like that.” Because while Adam didn’t blame Cole for telling him... it had caused so much grief. So many nights lying awake, wondering why he hadn’t gone to Heaven or Hell. Wondering what he had done to deserve dying at nineteen years old, right in the prime of his life. Wondering how he had died, if he had died. Jack didn’t deserve to have those same thoughts. 

As Jack approached him, Adam wanted to take a step back. The more distance, the less likely it was that something bad could happen to either of them. But he stood his ground, taking in the words of forgiveness he didn’t feel he deserved. Not entirely, at least. I don’t hate you. I could never. The words made Adam’s eyes tear up, and he returned Jack’s embrace tightly. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I’m sorry.”

jackforeman​:

WHO: jack foreman & @goldenboyrichards​ </33 WHERE: the richards’ residence

All that Jack could think about on his drive over to Adam’s house was that he had killed him. Probably with his bare hands, too, or whatever that black thing was that he saw in his head. He didn’t know what to think, or how to feel except betrayal and confusion. This was his best friend, someone he’d gone through hell and back with, and it was Adam’s fault that he had missed three years of his life. Three years of not being with his sisters, of being beside them while they mourned him, no matter where they thought he went. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were as white as the hood of his car, his breathing heavy but shaky as he made his way the few blocks to Adam’s house.

He’d waited to do this until Cole was out of the hospital, now knowing what he knew about the two. The past few days had been spent locked in his room with the occasional visit from Jo or Julie until he’d gotten the call from Adam’s sister that he was back at home. There were more important things than demanding answers about something that had happened years ago, especially when it concerned someone who Adam loved.

Jack’s heart was in his throat as he got out of the car, needing a moment to catch his breath before he rang the doorbell to see Adam’s face. It was a sight he hadn’t seen in the flesh since being in the Tunnel of Love despite replaying in his mind, plaguing his dreams since then. The look of determination before Adam had taken him into the warehouse was etched into his memory now, forever. As Adam opened the door, Jack took a step back, forcing a pained smile as he greeted him. “Hey, I heard you were home. Could I, uh … do you have a second? Can I come in?”

Some people were scared of spiders, some were scared of heights. Adam Richards was scared of letting down the people he loved the most. He always had been. Being a people pleaser was in his DNA, constructed out of the burden of being the only son and eldest child in the family. A duty to protect others, keep them safe, had long since been ingrained in him. Hurting someone? Hurting someone went against everything that Adam stood for. In his core, his very being, Adam was destroyed by the thought of hurting another person. It was unthinkable.

Killing Jack? He couldn’t fathom it.

After Jo had gone home a few days ago, Adam had barely left his room. He had known that the blackouts were bad, that they were something he should be scared of. His body wasn’t his when they happened - because Adam would never, ever hurt someone he cared about. But did that really matter? Because Adam had done it. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been his decision; he had still killed his best friend. His body was more than capable of murder, even if it wasn’t Adam calling the shots. 

When his mom told him that Jack was here to see him, Adam felt nauseous, like he truly might throw up. How could Adam even look at Jack right now? But... how could he not? Jack had every fucking right to hate him - Adam hated himself for what he’d done while blacked out. And if Jack wanted to confront him, then Adam couldn’t and wouldn’t stop it. He shakily walked to the door, opening it and peering at Jack sadly. 

“Yeah, man. Of course,” Adam said, opening it wider and leading the way towards his bedroom. He didn’t want his parents to overhear what he had done. “Jack, I - I’m so sorry. I don’t remember... doing that. And you can say or do whatever you want to me,” He told him after he closed the door behind Jack, nervously stuffing his hands into the pocket of one of the few hoodies Cole and Beth hadn’t stolen from him. “I get it. I’m not really safe to be around right now.”