Fair warning for gore and character death. Oops. Someone needs to give Kev a hug.

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Kevin.

Because at any given point you can fall down a hole and never get up again. You'll have to learn to live in the dirt.

There won't always be a way for you to crawl up again, to claw your way back into what you were used to.

No.

You'll have to stay.

But you can make things better.

Learn to live with the mud and make a cave your home. Improve what can be done but keep shouting for help.

Don't worry.

No one will come by but at least you will have a sense of security.

At least you tried.

And then, just when it seems bearable you realize the mistakes you have made.

Because you dug your own grave, laid yourself to rest and waited for the world to crumble around you.

And you did it all without doubting anything. Not even a heartbeat, not even a second, was spared to thinking.

So stupid.

How could you have been so stupid?

When darkness fell, you learned to stay still and wait. Instead, you should've moved on, should've learned to see without light.

But you didn't.

You were stupid enough to believe the lies.

How could you?

.
.
.

No.

How could I believe for even a moment that what happened, what was born out of judgment and raised in unfairness could end with justice?

I was so naive.

And I could barely breathe.

The world around me lay in ruins. I heard shouting, sobbing, someone cried for their loved ones and among the pure chaos, I watched my world burn. ( I should've scratched my eyes out. ) Pained noises echoed through the studio and indeed, that was all me. Body curled together, eyes wide open, it took so much effort for me to avert my gaze.

And then, as I sat with my head hidden by my arms, my back arched and my forehead touching my knees, I couldn't care anymore. I cried openly, ugly and well, I was a mess but so was this situation.

A soft murmur went through the crowd before a high-pitched scream ripped my head back up. Instinctively my eyes found the monitor again just in time for the camera to move.
Of course, it had to move, the security needed to be able to see everything, but somehow it felt like a cruel joke. 

A trail of blood splatters made its way from the table I used to play cards on, to a pulp of what might've been a person. The man's legs were bent and broken, sickly twisted in places they shouldn't be and a pool of blood was forming under his stomach and staining his uniform.

I could see a shadow moving at the corner of the camera before Howell stepped into view again. He kicked the pulp and jumped over it as if he had decided the guard wasn't dead enough for his pile of corpses. Then he stepped further away, doing the same motion to something behind the first pulp and a second much worse looking one appeared. Or maybe the second body didn't look worse? The bite marks paired with a familiar bald head just seemed more disturbing and well, apparently Chris fitted Howell's criteria on how dead he should be for the pile because as young and innocent looking as both Howell and Lester were, they dragged his corpse away and off screen.

Statics.

Somebody had finally turned the horror off as the video feed stopped and we were left staring in blank terror at the black monitor. I spent the next few heartbeats waiting for something to happen.

Anything.

Until a hand landed on my shoulder, cold fingers dug into my flesh, wandered down to my arm and before I could fight it, the same hand dragged me up and away from the stage. My brain didn't catch up. In my imagination, the icy limb belonged to the already cooling body of Adam, my beloved Adam who had come all the way to haunt me, taunt me because I couldn't keep him safe.

Without thinking I lashed out.

Only once my hand connected to a warm jaw did reality come back to me. The blue eyes staring up at me were familiar but wrong. 

When I had first met Adam, his eyes always seemed so dull, dead even and had only slowly begun to fill with life and love. I wanted to panic. Never would I willingly hurt Adam, but the eyes - these eyes weren't dead, just different, as I realized the man on the ground wasn't blond.

A mop of raven hair stood in stark contrast to the man's icy cerulean eyes, his skin pale and the expression one of barely contained fright. It seemed like the only thing holding the man together was a mix of professional superglue and the knowledge that I wouldn't strike him again. Otherwise, I could see his body trembling, muscles tense with the need to hurry away but Baxter didn't flee.

No, the short man slowly ( seemingly trying to appear non-threatening ) rose up, his hands pale but neither Adam's nor the hands of a zombie. When he finally stood to his full height, his stance was defensive but open, the ever nervous shrink finally showed some backbone as he guided my now numb body to the nearest chair. He was able to touch me, comfort me so soon after I had hurt him in a moment of blind rage.

" It's okay. "

A bruise was beginning to show up on his pale features.

" Just sit down... relax. "

His hair stood disheveled; his clothes wrinkled.

" You said you wanted the truth, man! " I pressed out between bared teeth, suddenly the idea had crawled into my mind that it wasn't real. Maybe, just maybe the older Mr. Paul had planned all of this and it was just an act. Oh god, let it be just that. " Couldn't you afford proper actors and like - tone it down a bit? Why show a Tarantino reject on Live TV? " What if kids had been watching?

To this day, I remembered my first hours behind bars. I regretted the way, I knew everybody by their last name to build up walls and stay closed off from these criminals but a fond memory would always be the way they dragged me around. Weird habit, I know, but that way I met Scott, Mitch and Avi - and Adam. Even that damn guard, Summers, had pulled me around like a rag doll and I couldn't find it in me anymore to mind it.

" Look at me! " Baxter's voice was unusually strong as it guided me back to reality. " This - None of this was planned... I didn't know this would happen. I'm so - so sorry. " He shook his head, it was only then that I noticed he hadn't stopped trembling. " Summers was in there as well... I saw him, he wouldn't... Iwan wouldn't participate in something like this, you hear me, Kevin? It was all real. "

It was all real. I felt myself drift off again as my mind replayed the gruesome scenes over and over again.

There was a pile of flesh and bones that used to be a person.

Somebody had lost a hand.  

Rob hung in his own cell.  

Chris was dead. 

" Stay with me, Kevin, okay? There is a SWAT team on their way, they're gonna solve this, I promise. " I could hear the unspoken 'it's going to be fine' shadow his words, but not even the lie itself dared to slip past Baxter's lips.

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Inconsistent writing style like whaddup I have no idea how words work anymore but here is the update ya'll wanted.

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