Tommy only realizes he's shaking when the elevator doors open and someone warm and steady puts hands on his shoulders and pulls him upright.
“You're okay,” Adam's voice whispers in his ear. “I'm here, now. You're okay.”
Tommy's stomach lurches, but he nods and lets himself be led out of the elevator and into the hall. He clings to Adam's arm, tucks himself against Adam's body the best he can, and Adam wraps one arm around his waist while he snaps at a girl who looks both annoyed and afraid.
When Adam's finished with that, he leads Tommy to the stairs. Tommy stops at the top of the flight going down, confused and knowing he won't make it to the first landing without major help. “Adam,” he says, and his voice sounds far away and broken.
“Okay, Tommy,” Adam murmurs. “I've got you.” Tommy feels the world shift, wraps his arms around Adam's neck and doesn't look, doesn't let go until they're inside what must be their hotel room. It's on the wrong floor, Tommy thinks. His brain makes a vague connection between the girl in the hall and the new room, but not enough of one to explain it.
Adam undresses him, and pulls worn-in sweat pants and a hoodie on afterward, then tucks Tommy into the big, king-sized bed.
“Only one bed,” Tommy says fuzzily, pretty sure that means something, but everything inside his head is tangled and complicated and wrong, and he feels like he's been crying for days, eyes and mouth dry and his head pounding, face tingling.
“I'm not going to leave you alone, okay?” Adam promises. “I'm going to go get a wet washcloth for your face, and then we're going to go to bed, okay? You don't have to sleep. I just want you to lie here with me, so I can hold you, okay? I just want to be able to hang on, and know you're safe.”
“Yeah,” Tommy nods. Adam moves away and Tommy sits there on the bed and waits. He comes back with the washcloth and wipes down Tommy's face, wipes away the tear stains and the sweat, then blots at his ears and neck. Tommy shivers, lies back when Adam's satisfied he's clean and cool, lets himself be tucked in under the covers. He's coming back to himself a little, knows what's going on, even if he can't control himself enough to stop shivering. God, he really just wants to sleep for the next year. He's so tired.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Adam coaxes, sliding into bed next to Tommy and wrapping an arm around his waist. Tommy shifts around until he's lying with his head on Adam's chest, his hand on Adam's heart, Adam's arms around his waist.
He takes a deep breath, and notices somewhere between the washcloth and lying down under the covers, his head has cleared. He blinks slowly, shifts so more of his body is aligned with Adam's. Adam. “Thanks,” Tommy mumbles, weariness slurring his words. “How're you so patient?”
“Because I love you,” Adam says into Tommy's hair. “Just how it is, baby. Get used to it.”
“Yeah,” Tommy drawls. “Kay. Don't let me go?”
“I promise,” Adam whispers.
Tommy drifts off somewhere in the middle of replying. I'm holding you to that.