( Jo | 001 ) - Blog Posts
jofcreman:
now, on the short walk to adam’s house ( two blocks, jo walked fast ) , she’d gone through almost every possible scenario, every way this conversation could possibly go. most of the time it had ended with either jo punching him in the face or adam angrily shutting the door, calling the cops, maybe. either way, she’d been angry in every scenario, ready to haul him over the coals, ready to end him for what he’d done to jack. however - this hadn’t happene in any of the scenarios. this being adam richards hauling ass into the kitchen emptying his guts into the rubbish.
jo had followed him into the house, only because she thought he might try and make a run for it. but quite obviously he… hadn’t. and her angry features softened, made way for a dumbfounded yet slightly concerned expression, she opened her mouth, stumbling over what to say. fuck. this had - this had not gone to plan, like, at all. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go! adam was supposed to confess and - “no!” she voiced her running thoughts, dropped her bag to the ground with an exasperated sigh, threw her hands in the air, stopped herself short of stomping her foot like a defiant child. “you’re not - ugh! you’re supposed to say how you did it and why and then - then i punch you for what you did and instead youre - ugh!” she groaned and did stomp her foot like a defiant child. “you’re not suppsoed to make me feel bad for you, asshole.”
but she did, and she felt guilt as hell, too, as she slid down next to him, brows drawn together in worry. jo sighed, a weary, heavy sound. “i don’t know, richards.”, she muttered after a moment, despite knowing it wasn’t a question asked for her to answer. she gave a little shrug, looked down at her hands. “i just - after what happened at the carnival, i don’t know what to believe anymore.” why was it always this fucking difficult? “can you just - can you tell me what you remember? about that night? promise i won’t hit you, i just - i’m just trying to figure out what happened. what really happened.”
It felt too terrifying to wrap his mind around fully. Adam knew he was capable of horrible things when he had blacked out - he’d tried to help with the fireworks, and though he hadn’t lit the match that killed five people, he had still helped. But to find out that he’d done that to his best friend? Jack? One of the kindest guys he knew, who had never done anything to Adam? It felt unthinkable. As he sat in the floor, head in his hands, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he tried his hardest to remember doing that.
But nothing came
He couldn’t remember any of that last week - Adam couldn’t even remember how he’d been possessed. If it weren’t for the nightmarish flash of the memory of threatening Cole, Adam wouldn’t even have any inkling of what he’d done leading up to his death. That summer had been fun. Full of bonfires by the lake, working as a lifeguard, sneaking off with Cole and making plans on their escape to California. Adam remembered being happy before it had all gone black. He remembered sharing beers with Jack at a party, dancing to Summer of ‘69 in his kitchen to make Cole laugh, watching The Price is Right with Beth, taking Cindy to see The Goonies. And then everything went black and apparently, he’d killed Jack.
He worried for a moment that he might be sick again before Jo followed him inside. “...I don’t know how I did it,” Adam told her weakly, looking up at her as she threw her bag down. “Or why. God, I have no fucking idea why.” He was horrifyingly, blissfully glad for a moment that he didn’t know. That he might never know. Because living with the memory of killing Jack sounded like absolute torture, and maybe this was kinder for him to not. But he didn’t really deserve kindness, did he? “...you can still punch me if you want,” Adam choked out, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand pathetically.
Jo sat down, though she seemed like she was still disappointed with the lack of an answer on why Adam had suddenly gone insane and killed his best friend. “The night of the carnival?” He repeated, looking over at her as he took a deep breath to try to calm down a little bit. “I don’t... I remember getting there. Jack and I played some game for a bit, then there was the mayor’s speech and stuff. We got on the Tunnel of Love, and when we got off...it all just goes black,” He admitted, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t remember anything else until I woke up and everyone was hurt. I didn’t even have a scratch on me. Nothing.”
jofcreman:
what happened? the way he opened the door, so non-chalantly, the way his brows drew together in worry, surely feigned concern for her brother, made jo’s blood boil. she flexed her hands, stopping herself short of letting her palm meet his cheek. no, the neighbourhood thought she was insane enough as is. truly, it was only her position at the post that spared her from their neighbour’s open ridicule. because a girl scoring a job like that, she had to have at least an ounce of sanity in her, right? even if she dressed like that and talked like that and behaved like that. but god, adam richards’ face did look extremely punchable right about then.
her judgement was clouded heavily by red hot rage, jo exhaled deeply through her mouth a couple of times to ground herself. countine one, two, three in her head. as much as she wanted to end him right then and there, she needed to get to the bottom of this. if not for her sake then for jack’s. “jack’s okay. considering.” brows still drawn together, jo scrunched up her nose in disgust. considering she was standing in front of his best friend and presumed murderer. considering he had died at the hands of who he’d trusted most. this wasn’t right. “we need to talk, richards. alone.” and, with her voice lowered and leaning in, she added: “about the summer of ‘85. remember? when you killed my brother?”
Jo seemed.... angry. With him. And Adam wasn’t sure why. What had he done to Jack? The last time they’d talked had been at the carnival, when Adam had beaten him at Down a Clown, but this was definitely unrelated to that. Before that, it had been when Adam had come out to Jack and told him about dating Cole - but Jack had seemed fine with it! So Adam couldn’t understand what he had done to piss Jo off in the last few days.
“Considering?” Adam repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Consider the carnival? He hadn’t thought Jack got hurt - he hadn’t seen him in the hospital. But maybe he had been? Maybe Jack and Jo were made that Adam hadn’t come to see him? “Did he get hurt or something?” He asked. And then he got his answer on why Jo was upset with him.
“I...killed Jack?” Adam repeated, freezing where he stood on the front porch. “No, I didn’t. No,” He shook his head, taking a step back and running into the door. “No, because I wouldn’t...” No, Adam wouldn’t do that. He would never, ever lay a finger on his best friend. But Adam wasn’t Adam when he blacked out, was he? And there was a whole week of his life in 1985 that Adam had no memory of, except for the time he’d nearly strangled Cole. If he had almost done that to the love of his life, what was he capable of doing to his best friend? “Oh my god...” Adam slumped backwards into the house, leaving the door open for Jo to follow. Without being able to stop himself, Adam doubled over the trashcan, throwing up the contents of his stomach at the thought of killing his best friend. His teammate. The guy he’d spent countless nights hanging out with in high school, the boy who’d come over and watch movies with him or join him at parties. The man he trusted more than almost anyone else, and who should have been able to trust Adam too.
“I don’t remember doing that,” Adam sunk to the floor in his kitchen, tone almost a whisper despite them being alone now. Head in his hands, Adam pulled at his own hair. “I love Jack. He’s my best friend. How could I... how could I do that?” He asked, knowing Jo wouldn’t have an answer.
jofcreman:
where: the richards residence
what: adam richards, watch your back.
who: @goldenboyrichards + jo.
following the incredibly awkward and horrifying talk the three foreman siblings had had in their basement, jo had wasted no time, grabbing her bag and booking it to where she remembered adam to live. her sister’s words rung in her ears, jack’s mortified face a constant image in the back of her head. ‘adam richards killed you?’ echoing through her skull, the source of a newly surfaced pounding migraine. ‘he said it would be ‘all over soon’.’
it was as if she couldn’t tell left from right, right from wrong anymore. she didn’t understand - but then again, maybe it wasn’t for her to understand. all that she knew for sure was that three years ago her brother had died. and now he was back from the dead, claiming that adam had killed him. god, she felt stupid. how she, for years, had discarded all the clues people called into the post pointing towards something supernatural happening in town. as it turned out, it was true - hawkins was cursed.
and jo felt posessed with rage and anger as she stormed up the stairs to the front door, knocking furiously. “adam richards!”, she called out between knocks, chest heaving. “you’ve got some fucking explaining to do, shitbird!”
Adam had gotten home from the hospital not long ago, assuring his mom that he was fine and that Cole and Chrissy were fine ( Chrissy hadn’t even been there, not that his mom cared ). In truth, Adam wasn’t doing so great right now, but he didn’t really think he had a reason to complain. After all, he’d been part of the people who had caused the destruction. He’d helped Billy, Melissa and Heather with the explosives, even if he hadn’t lit the match. Even if he had blacked out - it had been his body doing the task.
The worst part was the not knowing. Not knowing when the blackouts might come back, not knowing what was causing them. Not knowing what he had done to deserve becoming this.
He’d switched off shifts at the hospital with Beth, and Cindy was at a friend’s house, so there was no one to complain when he hogged the shower after his parents left to go grocery shopping. Adam smelled like smoke, sweat, alcohol, and antiseptic, a disgusting combination that he was ready to be rid of. He wasn’t sure he ever would be, though; the scent felt ingrained in his memory. Once he’d finally gotten out and thrown on a shirt and athletic shorts, he heard frantic knocking on the front door.
Adam Richards. He knew that voice - one of Jack’s sisters. Shit, had something happened to Jack? Adam wrenched the door open, stepping back in case she reached up to knock on it again. “What happened?” He asked, looking to see if Jack or the other Foreman sister was with her too. “Is Jack okay? Did he throw up the black stuff again?” Was Jack in danger? Adam was worried about his best friend, worried that maybe he had blacked out again and done something crazy.
