Chapter Text
Staring at the departure board at Denver International Airport, Adam tries his best not to panic.
So far, he’s failing miserably.
Every single flight out of the city has been cancelled. There’s a few late arrivals that the air control tower is trying to land safely, but other than that— nothing. A once in a lifetime blizzard is about to bring most of the air traffic in the Northern US to a crashing halt. Weather stations all across the country are warning people to stay inside and huddle up – and Adam?
Well, Adam has to be back in New York in two days or his promotion is at risk.
Looking out the big glass windows framing the foyer of Denver International Airport, a few lone snowflakes are dancing down from the gray sky. It’s hard to believe that in just a few hours, a bit of ice and snow will make it impossible for him to leave.
At least he’s not the only one currently freaking out.
All around him families are yelling and fighting, not just a few “but we need to get back for the holidays!” echoing through the crowd. There’s men like him – in business suits, with small leather suitcases by their side – furiously talking on their phones, and women in smart costumes staring at the departure board in disbelief. At least a couple of children are crying, airport employees desperately trying to offer solutions when there are none.
They are stuck.
For the foreseeable future, they are stuck.
Rubbing his eyes, Adam swallows down the urge to cry. This is neither the time nor place. Surely, there’s a solution to this problem – there has to be.
There usually is.
That’s what he is good at, after all: looking at a mess other people made and figuring out how to solve the problems presented to him in a way that benefits the company.
What company? Well, whoever hired his consulting firm this time.
And he can’t just lose everything he’s worked for throughout the last two years over a delayed flight, right?
Worrying his lip, Adam thinks back to the last meeting he had with his boss before flying out. The importance of his business trip was pretty clearly communicated. Adam had one week to close this deal, or the firm could lose up to 20 million dollars in potential client payments over the holidays. Unfortunately, the documents needed to make sure this doesn’t happen – a few signatures Adam was awfully proud of not even two hours ago – are only legally binding once his boss has greenlit them as well. They need to get filed in New York or the deal falls through. As it stands, the deadline will pass without Adam and the contract safely secured in his briefcase back in the city.
Instead, Adam will fitfully sleep in some run-down airport hotel in Denver of all places while his world falls apart.
(there’s a very real chance this might be it)
Consulting is one hell of a cutthroat business, and Adam has seen colleagues get fired for less.
After years of grueling work, one internship on Wall Street after the other, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to start at his current consulting firm, this can’t be what keeps him from getting a promotion. He needs this. If only so he can sleep at night.
How else is he supposed to get headhunted into private equity?
(some people dream of vacationing on the Bahamas, Adam dreams of a world where he can step away from being the one who tells companies which four-hundred people they need to cut-off to remain profitable, so he can simply trade and invest in peace)
(a little bit less guilt might be good for his stomach)
Fucking hell.
Shaking his head, Adam stares at the departure board until his eyes are dry and itchy. Every time he blinks, he can feel his contact lenses catch – there’s some eye drops in his bag somewhere, but right now he welcomes the aching dryness. Rather a little bit of pain than a show of weakness.
There has to be a solution here somewhere.
“And I thought I was being so clever for booking a flight with a layover in Denver.”
The voice startles Adam out of his reverie, one look confirming it belongs to the stranger next to him. A man, a few inches shorter than Adam, dressed in a big orange winter coat, hair covered by a white hat, face obscured by giant gold-framed glasses. A nobody, someone’s Adam never met before.
Still, it seems only polite to answer, “Oh, where’re you headed?”
“New York.” The stranger smiles up at Adam. Disconcertingly, he’s showing all his teeth as he does so. “Well, Baltimore, but the flight to New York was cheaper. As was the layover here.”
“Same hat.” Adam tries to smile back. It probably looks just as weird as the stranger’s attempt at levity. “New York, I mean. We might have been on the same plane before, well, all of this.”
“Cool.” The stranger nods, before offering Adam his hand. “Ben Doyle, by the way.”
“Adam Chase.” Taking his hand, Ben’s grip is surprisingly strong. “Any idea how to get out of here?”
“We could hijack a plane.” Ben’s words are so dry, it takes a moment before Adam recognizes the humor in them.
And then he laughs. It’s surprisingly earnest.
“Yeah, we could try that.”
“Or steal Santa’s sleigh.”
“I think the reindeer are unionized, they might not like that,” Adam shoots back. There’s a certain levity to Ben, as if he’s someone who never takes anything seriously, and Adam won’t lie: right now that’s exactly what he needs. Someone who isn’t as high strung as he is, if only so he can distract himself from his own troubles.
Normally, people like Ben (Laid-back stoners, the category is called in Adam’s mind) infuriate him, but special circumstances and all that.
“Dammit. Santa should do some union busting.” Scrunching up his nose, Ben’s expression relaxes into something more honest. More real. “Or we can try and get a car. Go on an epic road trip together that’ll forever change our lives.”
Adam blinks. That’s not actually that bad an idea – the roads will be easier to travel on, road services quick to clear most highways even during a bad storm. Even during the blizzard of the century.
“We could rent a car,” Adam says slowly, well aware that he’s offering a serious commitment to this stranger he met minutes ago.
“It’s a thirty hour drive.”
“Doable if we take turns.”
“I don’t have a license,” Ben admits, real chagrin shining out of his eyes.
“Fuck it, I’ve stayed awake for longer periods of time. I can drive.”
Adam’s always been a bit overexcitable – that’s why no one was surprised when he flourished doing theater in high school. The opportunity to project his (frequently commented on) voice across an auditorium was all he needed to break out of his shell. Somehow, this trait has stayed with him for all these years, through Yale, his short attempt at a comedy career, and the numerous faceless offices in the Financial District since.
Just this tendril of hope is enough to get him started, boundless energy trying to burst out of him now that he has a direction to go in. Thirty hours of driving, and Adam can save his future.
That’s not that bad a deal.
He’s certainly sold worse to the morons he works for.
Ben’s staring at him, something complicated happening on the few inches of skin actually visible. It takes a moment, but then he shrugs, “Okay, fuck it. I doubt it’ll be this easy, but I did want to go on an adventure, so…”
Turning around, they cut through the crowds of lost travelers in the direction of the car rental services. It’s not easy, hundreds of people moving all around them, the noise alone almost deafening, but Ben’s coat is bright enough (and unusual enough) that Adam never once loses sight of him. It’s like a beacon, and Adam’s grateful for it.
(it’s been a long time since he had this kind of connection with a stranger – the last time was with Maeve, and he’s still aching over how that ended)
(when she left, she took the cat with her)
(Adam worries if Mr. Cat is even still alive)
Breaking out of the thick of the chaos, the crowd thinning out, Adam allows himself to take a deep breath. It’s stuffy in here, the foyer not built to handle this many people just standing around, instead of moving through its giant halls with a direction in mind.
Pointing at the far wall near the exit, Ben says, “It’s over there, I think.”
“Yeah.”
By now, the snow has turned from a few lone snowflakes into a heavy downpour of white. Adam’s already freezing, even though they haven’t yet left the heated airport behind. He didn’t pack a coat thick enough for this kind of weather – if anything, he’s traveling light. This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out operation, and now it’s turning into some sort of freezing hell dimension, forcing him to overstay his welcome.
His stomach rumbles. He needs an antacid.
Anything, to help his body calm down.
(by now he’s accepted that his mind is pretty much a lost cause)
Lost in thought, Adam brushes against a man moving in the same direction. It’s just a light touch, Adam quick to offer a “Oh, I’m so sorry” when a surprised “Adam? Adam Chase, right?” stops him.
Turning around, he looks at the stranger – really looks at him.
Tall, long blond hair, and a jawline that could cut steel, Adam’s not sure if he’s supposed to recognize the man. Something familiar tickles the back of his mind, but Adam can’t quite put his finger on it. Have they met before? Maybe the guy’s famous? But why would he know Adam’s name if that’s the case?
The stranger seems to have no such problems; his eyes intense, his voice steady as he continues, “Oh, it is you. It’s been a while, but you, like, really didn’t change at all since… five? Almost six years ago?”
That’s at least a timeframe, even if Adam’s still struggling to place him.
Next to him, Ben pipes up, “You two know each other?”
“Well, I don’t think Adam here remembers me, but— Sam Denby. Adam interviewed for me once.”
“The world is a truly strange place,” Ben says, shaking Sam’s hand while Adam is busy crashing out. “Ben Doyle. I met Adam here five minutes ago, but now we’re trauma bonded in our attempt to leave Denver.”
Of course, Adam remembers Sam Denby now.
Sam was the closest Adam got to realizing his dream of a comedy career in New York.
After finishing college, he gave himself half a year to make it as a comedian, hell, or even just a comedy writer – after months of email correspondence, Sam offered him a dream just as Adam was headhunted by a consulting firm willing to pay him six figures in his first year.
He almost said yes to Sam anyway, until his dad called and asked him to please be sensible. And the thing is, for all the crazy stunts he pulled in his youth, Adam is a horribly sensible person. So, he denied Sam’s offer, took up a position as a faceless finance bro in Manhattan and waved his fantasies goodbye.
That was five and a half years ago.
Sam looks like a man now, compared to the boy he’d been when they last talked. It’s no wonder Adam didn’t recognize him.
“You’re trying to leave Denver?” Sam asks.
“Yeah.” Adam’s voice is a bit fragile, the shock still reverberating through his body. “Yeah, we need to get back to New York. Well, Ben here needs to get to Baltimore, but… yeah. And, hi Sam. Long time no see.”
“Adam thinks we should rent a car and just drive there, but…” Pointing at the shifting crowds and the long queues forming in front of the car rental places, Ben shrugs, “I don’t think we’re the only people who had that idea.”
“New York, you say?” Sam looks at them, consideration starkly visible in the lines on his face. “I was heading up to New York as well, actually.”
“You were?” Adam asks in disbelief.
It’s the only emotion he has left, everything else swallowed up by the insanity in front of him.
Surely, this isn’t actually happening. Surely, Adam’s overactive imagination is once again playing tricks on him. He’s been nervous these past few days, he’s slept badly, had too much coffee, and now his future is threatened – it would only make sense for his brain to conjure up an opportunity from his past he’s still grieving over.
Right?
“Yeah. Nebula’s End Of Year Party.” Sam’s smile is bashful, as if he feels bad for bragging. “Kinda have to be there as the CCO.”
“What on earth is Nebula?” Ben asks, before Adam can say something stupid.
“A streaming service.” Both Sam and Adam answer at the same time.
They look at each other.
Sam’s grinning.
Adam doesn’t believe in fate, but it’s hard not to listen to the universe when it’s sending you this many signs. With a sigh, he straightens up, “How did you plan on getting there?”
“Well… my car’s parked out front.” Pushing his long blond hair out of his face, Sam makes eye contact with them both. “Y’all, I could use someone to switch with me while driving.”
“I don’t have a license.”
“But I do.” Adam steps forward. “It’d be great if you could— yeah, if you’re offering, we’d love to, I mean, we’ll pay for the gas, of course, I’m just—”
“What Adam means—” Ben acts as if they’re childhood friends instead of whatever they actually are (mostly strangers), “is that we’d love to take you up on that offer. I’m a great passenger princess, by the way.”
“Passenger Princess?” Sam echoes back.
“Oh, yeah, private DJ, snack dispenser, map reader, road tactician… whatever you need, I can usually provide it.”
There is no doubt in Adam’s mind that Ben actually means it.
“Oh, cool.” Sam accepts Ben’s insanity at face value.
Something relaxes in Adam – he’s still a jittery mess, don’t get him wrong, but there was a part of him that worried about Ben and Sam not getting along. It’s stupid, of course it is, considering functionally they are all strangers to each other, and Adam has no claim on either one of them, but still—
He’s breathing a bit easier now.
“Y’all have everything you need?” Sam asks. “Because in that case: it’s time to go.”
Adam and Ben follow him out into the storm.