The slap doesn't do anything, really, beyond getting an anguished cry from Adam. The phone is still pressed against his ear, though, and it takes a moment for Adam to parse that it's Kavinsky on the other end. He shudders and has to think for a long moment on what was said, though, before he's able to pull it together enough to understand what's going on. "I-I killed him, K. It was me. I. I killed Gansey."
He laughs, then, but there's no humor. It's nothing but hysterics. He keeps laughing, too, until the question about where they are is posed to him. He rattles off the numbers of the GPS coordinates Gansey gave him that set all of this in motion, gasping as he tries to catch his breath. Once upon a time he'd wished Gansey would leave him alone about his life and how he chose to live it, and now he'd never bother him about anything again, just when he began to accept the help offered around him. Irony? Maybe that's where the humor is in all of this.
When he's calm again, or at least not laughing at any rate, he gets struck by another low and is herded into the front seat, and there it is again. The cracked windshield where Gansey's impact occured. Most of it was washed away by now, but some stubborn blood is still stuck in the hairline fractures, glowing pinkish red in the dingy storm light. Behind him he knows the result of his actions lay waiting even further, more sickening than anything stuck on the hood or the windshield. There's no escaping it. He tries scrambling away, hyperventilating, but Ronan had the foresight to lock the door behind him and Adam can't for the life of him remember how to disengage it. "Let me out. Let me outLETMEOUT! Letmeout!"
The phone lay on the floor of the passenger's side. Adam never hung up.
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Date: 2015-03-19 08:59 am (UTC)He laughs, then, but there's no humor. It's nothing but hysterics. He keeps laughing, too, until the question about where they are is posed to him. He rattles off the numbers of the GPS coordinates Gansey gave him that set all of this in motion, gasping as he tries to catch his breath. Once upon a time he'd wished Gansey would leave him alone about his life and how he chose to live it, and now he'd never bother him about anything again, just when he began to accept the help offered around him. Irony? Maybe that's where the humor is in all of this.
When he's calm again, or at least not laughing at any rate, he gets struck by another low and is herded into the front seat, and there it is again. The cracked windshield where Gansey's impact occured. Most of it was washed away by now, but some stubborn blood is still stuck in the hairline fractures, glowing pinkish red in the dingy storm light. Behind him he knows the result of his actions lay waiting even further, more sickening than anything stuck on the hood or the windshield. There's no escaping it. He tries scrambling away, hyperventilating, but Ronan had the foresight to lock the door behind him and Adam can't for the life of him remember how to disengage it. "Let me out. Let me outLETMEOUT! Letmeout!"
The phone lay on the floor of the passenger's side. Adam never hung up.